Pirates of the Caribbean: Snake's Tongue
by Maxwell Jack
Summary: Sequel to ORACLE'S PROPHECY and number 2 in a series of 4. Full title, Snake's Tongue and the Lost Blades. Cannibals, dragons, zombies, mermaids, were wolves, Davy Jones and Greek Gods of all things. Jam packed with crazy stuff. Rated M for language.
1. Prologue: Homecoming

Jack; Yes, yes, yes. Back by popular demand.

Mungojerry; Ya sure 'bou' 'at?

Jack; Quiet, you. I happen to have a number of fans who keep asking for more. So if

you'll please keep your furry lips shut.

Mungojerry; Masta' o' th' empty threat.

Jack; Shut your pie hole.

Disclaimer (ooh, this part is always fun); Insert hyperspeed man talking about a bunch of legal crap, just like on the radio commercials. Okay, never mind. I don't own anything seen in PotC, or anything not seen (hee hee). I don't own Kevin McNally, Jack Davenport, Zoë Saldana or Jonathan Pryce. I definitely don't own any of the other lesser characters. I don't own Geoffrey Rush or Keira Knightley. I sure don't own Orlando Bloom, AKA Orly (what a dumb nickname). Unfortunately, my trio of snare drummers are missing from the picture (for those of you who remember my first story) but I do have a certain Muppet by name of Animal who is here with us today on the drum set. Say hello, Animal.

Animal; AAAAAHHHHHH! *BOOM-KU-KU-KU-GAK-KUDUDUDUUN- -CRASH*

Jack; Um … thanks for that. As I was saying … I don't own the divine, the nearly immortal, the gimoungously* talented ... (Animal begins to hack away at his drum set and scream incoherently.) –ahem- yeah, okay. Shut up, you - anyways, the magnet to women worldwide (say THAT five times fast), the incredibly Magnifique, the utterly intelligent, not to mention sexiest, (need I go on? Everyone knows whose name belongs at the end of this long list), the be— (Animal begins whacking away at the set again, a lot of orange fuzz blurring from all his head banging. Jack picks up Mungojerry and tosses the cat at the Muppet.) Take that! Ya wire controlled piece of colored felt. Ah, where was I? Ah yes. The beauteously remarkable, Johnny Depp! AKA Tanto's Giant Nuts... . Um, well. If you can tell me where THAT particular name comes from, then I'll really be impressed.

*Gimoungous Gigantic + Humongous = Gimoungous

(I also wave claim to any of the _Dead Man's Chest_ stuff in this fic and actually, I didn't start using any DMC stuff until the end of chapter 10, even though there seem to be many a coincidence. I contribute it to being luck, like mind between the writers and me, and my taste for piracy. No, I do not own Stellan Skarsgard, Bill Nighy or Tom Hollander.)

Now for the other Disclaimer. I don't own Robin, Lizzy, or any of the other characters.

And without further ado, what you've been waiting (or not waiting) for ...

_**Pirates of the Caribbean; The Snake's Tongue and the Lost Blades**_

**PART ONE**__**: **_**LA LANGUE DE SERPENTE**_

**Prologue –The Homecoming**

Libussa stirred her drink quickly while she leaned on her arm. She noticed a faint green tint to her grog, which made her curious as to what might be amiss with it. She looked into the glass and realized she'd accidentally stirred a calling pattern. She must have been really spacing to have done _that _without noticing. It was not a simple spell pattern.

She decided not to waste the energy being used to create the spell and took a gander in her tinted grog. What she saw was a bit shocking. Anyone else would be terrified to find pictures in their grog normally, but this was a superbly shocking sight to have Libussa, master of arcane, even at all moved.

It was a bird. A small brown and blue highlighted bird with forked tail feathers. The little bird was flitting about like normal birds do but it didn't see the danger just to its right. There was a snake a brilliant poison green color with eyes like red gems. It reared its head and opened its mouth, revealing pointed fangs that dripped a yellow liquid. The reptile lunged at the bird.

Libussa jumped, knocking her grog over. The liquid splashed over the table and caught a final image of the snake twisting around the bird before the liquid flashed and began to eat through the wood. What she could see of the grog was now a yellow color as if it had fallen from the very fangs of the snake.

…

BANG! Jack felt the small impact in his side and repressed a groan as he tried to ignore it. He had been sleeping peacefully for quite some time after a night of drinking and more. He really didn't want to get up right now.

He heard a small stifled snigger and knew Scarlette was awake and watching.

"Father, wake up!" a stubborn girl's voice demanded. "You promised! Come on! Get up!"

Jack merely grunted and rolled over onto his face. He heard the sound of impatient footsteps and an exasperated release of breath.

"Mother," the voice complained. "He won't get up. _Make _him get up."

"All right, I'm up!" Jack exclaimed. It was better to get up now than to have Scarlette wake him up. She was utterly cruel sometimes.

They were in the captain's cabin aboard _The Black Pearl_. It was the year 1769 and Jack and Scarlette were but a few hours away from Port Royal. They had not been there in five years. They had left just after the Seven Years War had concluded and had been pirating endlessly since then, collecting new and dangerous stories.

Sharon jumped off the bed and stood stubbornly with her arms crossed and feet planted firmly. "Hurry up!"

She had convinced Jack to teach her some harder moves in swordplay. She wanted to be able to beat her childhood friend Will Turner.

"I'm hurrying, child, now go out and wait for me. I'll be there in a minute." Sharon scampered outside, giving her father a warning look. She closed the cabin door behind her and Scarlette laughed loudly.

"It's amazing what control she has over you," she pointed out. "It's adorable."

Jack gave her one of those don't-say-another-word-about-it-or-I'll-have-you-for-breakfast looks. She only laughed at him. He slipped on a shirt and vest, cinching them at the waist with a beaten striped sash. He belted his sword sheath over them tightly, added a second, more ornamental belt, and checking to make sure his sword was attached.

Scarlette stood, dislodging the gargantuan cat that had adopted her some years back from her lap. The creature was convinced that she was his mother and followed her everywhere while on the ship. Scarlette smiled at Jack once she was free of the cat and while he was checking himself, tiptoed over to him, moving silently in stocking clad feet, her trousers and loose shirt making stealth easy. She made 'spider fingers' over his back and he jumped.

Her laughter was interrupted by Jack's smirk. She stopped immediately when she saw _that _particular look. He grinned even further when she started waving frantically. "No, no, I'm sorry. It was only a joke. Please don't. I'm sorry!" He picked her up at the waist and deposited his tiny wife up on the rafter shelf above the window.

She rolled into a ball. "There are _spiders up here_!"

"You asked for it," he answered cockily.

"I HATE spiders!"

"That makes two of us. Why don't you just jump?"

"Jump? I can't jump! One; It is ten feet to the ground and I might break a leg. Two; you know the ship needs new floorboards. It's been almost 25 years since this ship was last looked at. The floor is rotten! If I jump, the boards will break and I'll fall to my death." She quieted as a particularly large spider spun its way into her line of sight. She became very still, not daring to move, lest she upset it.

"Jack ..." she squeaked out of the corner of her mouth. "There's a big spider over here. You might want to let me down now."

He grinned rakishly and started towards the door. Scarlette yelped as the spider dropped from its web onto her leg. Jack opened the door and called back to her in a goading voice before leaving. "It's only about six feet, luv." Jack left the room and closed it before she had a chance to get down and start after him.

He met Sharon on the fore deck and pulled out his sword. "Are you ready, little one?"

«_Bien sur_, » she told him. «_Mais, est-ce que tu as prête_? »

"What did you say? Dammit! Why did I ever let Scarlette teach you French? I can't understand anything you just said! Ouch!" While Jack was complaining about his daughter's lapse of language, she struck out with her blade, almost hitting her father. He barely parried in time, giving her the riposte almost automatically, which she in turn parried. This went on for some time as a warm up. Jack rolled his shoulders back to prepare for the next part.

"Don't move," a threatening voice told him. He turned his eyes to the left and saw the blade almost against his neck. He turned to find Scarlette, her sword drawn. She had a dark look on her face.

"Down from the shelf, are we?" Jack asked her, grinning wildly again. He couldn't help it. Sharon stepped back to watch, knowing that the scene ensuing would most likely be great entertainment. Watching her parents fight would undoubtedly be more fun that learning new maneuvers.

"Why Mr. Sparrow. You should not be teasing me now," she told him in a faux sweet voice.

"And why is that?" he asked her with more confidence than necessary. "Is it that time of month?"

All the men on the ship that had stopped to watch the scene suddenly shook their heads, muttering on the stupidity of THAT particular question and continued on their duties.

"Not quite, dear," Scarlette muttered blandly, not missing a beat. "But I have a gift for you."

"Really?" Jack asked, genuinely surprised and immediately curious. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing really," she said nonchalantly, looking to the sky. "Nothing you'd be interested in."

"Now I'm really curious, luv," he admitted.

"Well …."

"Yes?"

"Here, I'll show you," she pulled out a small wooden box usually used for her jewelry.

"I am slightly suspicious by nature," Jack told her as he drew close enough to see the box. "What is it you have in that box?"

"It's a surprise," she pointed out blatantly. "I can't tell you what's in it because the surprise would be ruined. Don't you trust me?"

"Luv, trusting you is like trusting my female twin. It'd be a death wish."

"Ouch. I believe my feelings have been bruised."

Sharon was getting bored watching these two old people haggle over a box as if they were in a pawnshop. She yawned.

"Fine," he answered, sensing that he was losing the crowd's attention. "Let me have it."

"All right, but it's detailed so you'll have to get closer."

"All right, all right! Open the bloody box!"

"You asked for it, buddy," she shook the box for some reason and pulled off the wooden lid, flinging the contents of the box in Jack's direction.

"What the—" he began until he saw them. Three large spiders were airborne in his direction. Time seemed to slow down in which his eyes widened. He could see the individual eyes on the largest one, along with the moving mandibles that looked to him like the gates of Hell itself. Time resumed its normal pace and the spiders hit him one after the other.

Fwap, fwap, fwap! Jack stood for a moment, not wanting his men to see how terrified of spiders he was. Sharon and Scarlette were laughing in harmony … well, Scarlette was laughing. Sharon was giggling uncontrollably. One of the arachnids had landed on the edge of his collar and had already climbed partway up his neck. It reached the line of his jaw and lost its footing. Down it plummeted, but not to the ground. The spider slipped down the rough fabric of Jack's shirt, sliding along his darkly tanned chest.

Now, most people can handle the thought of touching something with gloves, but put in bare skin and they run screaming. Jack, to put it simply, freaked out. He ran about, trying to pick out the spider, who was attempting to escape by climbing up Jack's chest, sending him flailing even more with its tiny little claws scritch-scratching about on his tanned chest.

He climbed up on the railing and did a spectacular flop onto the water, his arms and legs wind milling like crazy.

"Guess he didn't have time to do his swan dive, eh?" Scarlette cracked. The men of the crew were in absolute hysterics. A rope ladder was thrown by Mr. Cotton and a sopping Jack climbed up from the Caribbean.

He grabbed his sword from where he'd dropped it and brandished the shiny blade in Scarlette's direction with an exotic and somewhat inebriated flair. She grinned almost as ferociously as he, and reciprocated the threat.

"Oh, boy," Gibbs muttered, trudging over to the helm. "Here we go again. One would think they were enemies … or siblings. Normal couples don't have world-renowned swordfights daily. Normal couples sit down and drink tea."

"More like rum, old friend," Jack corrected, lashing out at his wife, who parried without blinking.

"You sound like my dad," Scarlette added to Gibbs, feinting high and attacking low, while ducking under Jack's attempted mid swipe.

"I feel like yer dad. And his too."

He was cut off by a loud clang as the Sparrows ensued in yet another battle, more of wit and pride then of skill as a swordsman. While they were at it, Little Joaquin came up from below decks and watched with big eyes as his parents fought. He always got excited at the fights. He joined his sister at the railing.

Well, to say this was a fight to top all would be lying, for this happened just about every day. And it never stayed in one place.

About twenty minutes later, after chasing each other back and forth, Jack stopped and spoke in a playful but still challenging tone. "You fight like a dairy farmer."

"How appropriate," she countered. "You fight like a cow."

He grinned again and moved towards her. She jumped up and fled towards the fishnet rigging, climbing up the swinging ropes and hoisting herself into the crow's nest. She hadn't anticipated Jack following however.

He hopped into the nest as well and they had a stop and go fight around the beam in the center. Scarlette placed herself upwind so Jack had to contend with the merchant's jack being flown. The flag was whipping about and nearly blinding him.

She attempted to reach around and disarm him but lack of arm length gave her a disadvantage. He reached around and put a dagger in her sleeve, pinning her to the beam. He then disarmed her, the sword she'd been using falling point first and embedding itself in the deck directly in front of Gibbs. He gave Jack a dirty look and shook his fist.

Scarlette yanked at the dagger to no avail. It wouldn't budge. She leaned on it and the hole in the wood was forced to grow, lengthwise.

She wiggled it and pulled out the blade, brandishing the small dirk with a rather murderous fervor. Jack only laughed and advanced, sheathing his sword and catching her wrist. The dagger dropped to the bottom of the crow's nest and his hands moved to her waist. He bent over her in a threatening type way and she glanced down to the deck some thirty feet down as he pressed her to the edge of the nest suggestively.

"You wouldn't drop me would you?" she asked in a small voice, her hands on his chest, clutched in the fabric of his shirt.

"Maybe," he whispered, pulling her against him. She hissed.

"Cold! You're still all wet!" He grinned and hugged her tightly as she squealed. He picked her up under the knees and back and held her over the drop. She clung to him, only slightly afraid, not minding the wet so much anymore.

"Come on, Jack," she said nervously. "This isn't funny anymore. I'd say put me down, but you might take me literally."

He smiled silently at her and kissed her forehead. She relaxed a bit and he made a heaving motion with his arms. She nearly choked him in fear and grabbed him by a few dreadlocks for emphasis.

"Stop that!" she told him. "I won't let go if you do, you know."

"It's only payback, luv," he answered frankly.

"If I give up will you set me down?"

"Hmmm …."

"In the crow's nest, I mean?"

"Maybe …."

"What more do you want?"

"Hmmm …."

"Personal note. Never ask a maniacal pirate captain what he wants."

"You should take your own advice, darlin'," Jack told her.

"You win! Put me down ... _IN THE NEST_! Come on, Jack. Please? I promise I won't throw spiders on you anymore. It was your fault anyway. You put me up on that shelf again."

"Not my fault you lack in ... vertical stature."

"Shut up! It's not my fault you have a phobia of eight legged bugs. And you're not the epitome of willowy height, babe!"

"Well, in a way, it is your fault. You're the one who made the tarantula comment that night nearly _eleven _years ago while eating dinner in the Turner home."

"You remember that?"

"I remember. I also remember the time I tried to speak French to that inn keeper."

"Hey, I told you how to say the word. You need to not hold grudges for so long."

"Hey!" Anamaria shouted up at the bantering Sparrows. "You wanna get down here and get ready? We've arrived."

The Sparrows stopped looking at each other and looked around at the surrounding scenery. There was Port Royal, the last cay of a long string with its peak and ports. _The_ _Pearl _was a few hundred yards from the dock.

Scarlette wriggled out of Jack's grasp and scaled down the rigging. Jack followed quickly. She walked into the cabin and stopped him when he tried to follow.

"I'm going to change, luv," she told him, speaking more out of habit than mocking. "You should go and recover that sword." She closed the door in his face and he shook his head.

Instead of complaining, he laughed shortly and retrieved the sword, waltzing right into the room. She would need his help getting into her dress anyways.

…

Somewhere in Port Royal, the Sparrows were being observed as they exited _the Pearl_. The voyeur laughed as he looked over each in turn. The small boy with his tight little plait of ebony hair and his large black eyes was too innocent looking. The girl, not much older was so much a blend of the two that she could not possibly be mistaken for anyone else's child, but she was not what he had in mind either. Too young.

He looked over the older ones, the main targets in his mind. Captain Jack Sparrow with his roguish charm would be a bit too large to tame for any length of time, not to mention, he was needed in a free but constrained state. Scarlette however, was a different story. She was petite and from what he saw was feminine. She wore a long satin dress made of a dark green though he could see the toe of a boot instead of slippers. She would be the ideal target. He wasn't much for terrorizing children and Jack would be too difficult.

If he had bothered to do his research on his targets, he might have reconsidered.

…

Well then. How do you like my return to grace eh? Just kidding. I had a difficult time writing my connecting details here. Maybe it's the weather. Or stress. I don't know. Maybe I can use the last story for school! As a work sample? No? Okay, never mind. It's not classroom appropriate anyway.

So this is how it's going to work. The first ten chapters are basically pure _Langue de Serpent _stuff … and from then on we get to have fun with Davy Jones and the lot.

P.S. Disclaimer to Monkey Island ™. Whoever knows why gets a prize unless your name is Heather Cook or Winter Gibbs.


	2. Chapter I: Rude Welcome

Back again? Ah! Be still, my heart. They've returned for more of my unhealthy crap! Well, maybe not as unhealthy as my diet.

Guess what! I met someone personally who did some of the voices in the ride of Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland. He even did them in front of me! I feel so special. You guys would love my room. Pirates is definitely the main theme. Obsessed? Maybe. Sane? I doubt it.

Well now. On with the day.

**Chapter I—Rude Welcome**

It was a lovely day in Port Royal and Fort Charles was up and running, as usual. The only person that seemed to be fretting was a little man in a blue coat, white wig, and buckle shoes, running towards a certain official's door. He burst into the room after knocking and dancing around as if he had to pee.

Norrington's head snapped up after hearing what his very excited lieutenant had to say. "Are you certain?"

"That I am, sir," Gillette nodded emphatically. "_The Pearl _is docking as we speak. She's flying merchant flags, but I'd know her anywhere."

Norrington sprung from his seat. "Get the riders atop. Meet me in the square behind the battlements of Fort Charles."

A few minutes later, the King's Riders, or KR were assembled. The KR were Company marines that had been employed to rid towns such as Port Royal and Spittlefield of rogues such as Jack. Norrington was placed as its head of course, a local naval commander rather than a Company one.

They had been created specifically to take down Jack Sparrow by a certain Company official that had been present at one of Jack's foiled executions some years back. I was no secret that Jack was a wanted man, but Norrington was usually more understanding. What exactly was driving the man to such lengths this time?

He hoisted himself onto a horse and raised his sword, spurring on the magnificent animal. The KR followed behind as he waved his handsome saber. They were off like a shot … or more like thirteen particularly lethargic shots seeing as bullets had a tendency to move faster.

In any case, Norrington led his men down towards the quay.

…

"Oh look," Little Joaquin pointed, grinning with a shadow of some familiar smile. "It's the Bignose man."

"Norrington?" Scarlette wondered, making the connection immediately. "Is he escorting us? With twelve riders behind him? Jack; you didn't do anything to piss him off again, did you?"

"Not that I recall, luv," he answered just as bewildered. Norrington and his dragoons halted before the crew, their hooves making harsh sounds against the cobblestones. Norrington rode out onto the pier, the hoof sounds changing to hollow echoes as the sound waves bounced off the water below.

He dismounted and nodded. Two freshly pressed looking men followed him and seized Jack, shackles at the ready.

Jack gave them an indignant look. "And why, may I ask, am I being handled this way?" He shoved one off and the man nearly toppled off the pier. He quickly righted himself and grabbed Sparrow more roughly this time.

Norrington sighed. "If you have to ask you shouldn't be on the sea at all. Take him away." The two men began to pull and yank Jack along, who had long ago dug his feet into the wooden slats of the dock.

Scarlette rolled her eyes. She waited until Jack had been dragged off before speaking to the Commodore. "All right, James. Out with it."

He met her eyes, knowing better than to ignore her. "You two were in Spittlefield, correct?"

"Perhaps, we may have been. Why?"

"Well," he began, managing to sound bored and angry simultaneously. "My sister, whom I love dearly, informed me that her house had been ransacked by pirates. Pirates! At the same time, there was only one ship, and one with black sails in the harbor that night. What do you suppose the name of that ship was?" Norrington usually didn't ask questions he didn't know the answer to, so this was _not _a trick question.

"Commodore," she said warily. "Do not treat me as if I were an idiot. What happened to you being our friend, hmm? Safe passage? Am I to be taken as well?"

"No, Mrs. Sparrow," Norrington answered. "You are not being pressed, but I must retrieve a certain artifact that was stolen from the house. Do you know where I might find it?"

"What was this artifact exactly?"

He straightened up and gave her a look. Here eye contact didn't break for a second and he finally sighed and relented. "A snake."

"There wasn't any live cargo," she answered, taking Little Joaquin's hand as he drew closer. "Except a stingy red parrot. Strangely, her name was Bob Marley. She actually told us this. She's up with Cotton if you want to take a look at her."

The concept that Bob Marley was a strange name went over everyone's heads.

"Well," he continued. "It's not really a _live_ specimen. The snake is made of a certain metal."

Scarlette inclined her head slightly. "I'm guessing this is certain metal has a name."

"Gold," Norrington stated. "The snake is made of pure gold, along with other valuable materials."

"Ah, well," she agreed. "That makes a difference. If I give you this … idol, will you let my husband out of jail?"

"Perhaps," Norrington answered. "I cannot guarantee that—"

"No," Scarlette interjected. "He goes free or you don't get this snake, even if we have it, which … I'm not entirely sure if we _do_ have it … but I'll check and see. Agreed?" She held out her hand and Norrington was temporarily stunned at her forwardness and likeness to her husband. Then he remembered that he might as well be bargaining with Jack himself and his surprise waned.

He reached out and shook her small hand, noticing that her grip was anything but dainty. Before she could leave, he spoke to her. "What I was going to tell you was that I can't guarantee anything if the Company is in port. They have already issued these dragoons _just_ to capture Jack. If their new chairman is here, it will be impossible to free Jack."

She smirked. "I'll take care of that if it's a problem." She turned around to address the crew, who were streaming intermittently down the gangplank to see what was amiss.

"Did anyone notice this golden idol? Shaped like a snake? Taken from Spittlefield?"

"Um ..." Gibbs began. "I might ..." He came up to Scarlette and whispered something in her ear. "_Anything that wasn't of coin value was taken to Isla de Muerta. If we _did _take this snake of his, it's on the island_."

"Ah," she said aloud. "Well, in that case, I'm sorry Commodore. We may have your idol but unfortunately, it is not in the vicinity. If you will scurry on over to the jail and let my husband out, I'll negotiate with him, the return of your … snake, eh? What say you to that?"

Norrington shook his head, more a clearing of thought than of saying no. "In which, case I would have to decline. I have no insurance that you would ever return. You may visit Mr. Sparrow at any time but until further notice, he is being restrained by the law."

"Fine, I'll do that, Commodore."

Norrington nodded and turned. "Adieu, Mrs. Sparrow."

"Ciao," she answered. "Oh, and Commodore …." He turned back to face her. "Should I hear of a death sentence on my husband, you will regret that you made this choice, savvy?"

Norrington shivered, both at her dialect and the thought of her revenge, nodded curtly, and left the scene.

Scarlette grinned and Gibbs started coughing. She turned to him. "What?"

He was in tears with his laughter. "I'd say he's 'fraid of ye, but not of Jack. Don't make sense 'till ya talk. Ye don't look like Jack on the outside but inside, you two are identical … 'ceptin' maybe fer anatomy."

"Heart of my heart," she added. "Off to the Turners."

…

"Keira, Darling, not like that. You must curtsy _this_ way. And don't giggle so much, dear. It's not becoming."

There was a loud knock on the door and the eight-year-old Keira jumped from her place and ran off to see who had arrived. Elizabeth sighed and followed at a slower pace.

She turned the corner to find Will (the older) being hugged to death by a petite woman. The woman released Will and turned to Elizabeth. It was Scarlette.

The two women hugged as well and laughed aloud. It had been a little over five years since they had seen each other.

The usual greetings ensued. Little Will and Keira were introduced along with Joaquin and Sharon. The kids went off to play outside and the Turners sat down with Scarlette.

"So," Will began a bit nervously. "Where's Jack?"

"Around," Scarlette answered. "Norrington picked him up as soon as we docked and dragged him off to the jail on a minor charge. I'm supposed to trade a golden snake thing presumably stolen from his sister's house while we were in the area for Jack's freedom."

"Are you serious?" Elizabeth asked. "Jack is in jail? Again? I thought Norrington was friendly towards him!"

"Well, apparently he 'loved' his sister enough to toss Jack in jail," Scarlette scoffed. The butler offered her some crumpets. "Thank you."

"Maybe he's just nervous," Will suggested, stretching out on the small couch, resting his back against the plush cushion.

"Nervous? About what?" Scarlette asked, biting off a chunk of crumpet.

The Turners exchanged a glance. Scarlette noticed it and rose one eyebrow, swallowing. "What is it? You'd better tell me or I'll find out on my own, and then I won't be happy. Especially if it comes back to bite me on the ass."

"Well ..." Elizabeth began, blushing at her slip on language. "It's nothing too important. A few of the women in Port Royal have disappeared. There isn't really any evidence to tie it to Jack but the new KR were made most especially for notorious pirates such as he. It's dangerous to be blatantly out as a pirate in this area with the Company hovering so closely. You should probably get him out as soon as possible."

"Nice one," Scarlette answered. "That'll be easy as pie, right? Only two to six days one way to sail to Isla de Muerta for that blasted idol. What if he's sentenced while I'm gone? That's almost two weeks time we're talking about."

"Don't go," Will suggested. "Send the crew along under Anamaria's command. They'll do well under her. They always have."

"She won't have it," Scarlette explained. "Jack had something to attend to in Madrid two years ago and left the ship under Anamaria. It was one of the few times he went alone to his business, whatever it might have been. Anamaria wouldn't let him leave until he'd given the captaining rights to me. It wasn't exactly something I wanted but when asked their reasons for their wants, most of the crew replied that they couldn't tell the difference between Jack's and my command. I, personally think that's ridiculous. All they'd have to do is listen or even look over at me. I'm not a sea captain and certainly not one as … experienced as Jack."

"Scarlette," Will asked with a slightly bemused face. "How long have you lived on _The Black Pearl_?"

"Altogether? I'm not sure … more than six years … on and off for the last ten at least. Why ask such a question?"

"Well," Elizabeth added. "You probably know just as much about shipping as the crew. Plus, I've heard about some of the squabbles, of which our correspondent, who shall remain nameless, has called Teasing Love Battles. The crew respects you just for being able to take on Jack."

"It's not like I did anything remarkably special," Scarlette answered. "Just being my difficultly stubborn self."

"Which just happens to be Jack's difficultly stubborn self as well," a rusty voice added from in the hallway. Bootstrap Bill rounded the corner and gave an ambient smile. Scarlette jumped up from her seat and ran to him, jumping into his arms. Bootstrap looked a tad surprised but not so much as to fall over in shock. She pulled him over to the couch and the conversation continued.

"As I was saying," Bootstrap kept on. "Two people with your mentality will either be the perfect match, or hate each other completely. It's a rule … I think. More accurately, two leaders will either cooperate to a frightening extent or hate each other to no end. Take Jack and Barbossa for example. There was no fine line there. Even Norrington can't stay friendly with Jack for too long. There comes a difference with you due to your being female. Norrington won't become a problem to you unless you deliberately do something to _REALLY_ tick him off. There are other men, however, that will prove to be a pain in the ass without provocation."

"Hmmm," Scarlette thought. "I could light his wig on fire!"

"NO!" everyone exclaimed at the same time. Bootstrap picked up where he left off. "The object isn't to make a threat of yourself. Stay in your position and we might be able to get Jack out. You do practice more decorum than he does. Use it, and maybe we can manage something."

"Most likely he'll be out by tomorrow," Will added. "They don't have much to keep him there."

"Only the fact that Norrington wants a big golden snake," Scarlette muttered. Luckily, she was in a room full of 18th century folk, or she'd have gotten snickers and jeers.

The sounds of steel blades brought their attention to the window. Outside, Sharon and William were going at it, their swords flashing brilliantly in the sunlight. Their words could be heard in a flurry of insults.

"I once had a dog that was smarter than you," William shouted, grinning at her.

"He must have taught you everything you know, eh?" Sharon answered. She retorted with another snide comment. "Have you stopped wearing diapers yet?"

"Why?" William asked. "Did you want to borrow one? I've met apes that were more polite than you."

"Glad to hear you attended your family reunion," she sneered, blocking a well-placed move. This went on for a while until a big black dog came running up and tackled William.

"Oh!" Elizabeth gasped, then she began to giggle girlishly as William attempted to wrestling the big dog. The dog was licking her child's face ferociously until a hand grabbed the thing's collar and wrenched the dog off William. The little boy looked up into Topher's face. Robin, who had accompanied him, was staring as Sharon in half disbelief.

She shook herself and ran towards the door, knocking loudly. The butler opened the heavy door and Robin rushed into the living room. She saw Scarlette sitting there and nearly killed her in her excitement.

"Robin!" Scarlette choked. "Robin, dear. Get off! Your breasts are killing me! I cannot breathe!" Having been brought at the same time from the future, their excitement and bluntness were not surprising.

"Where have you been!" she asked loudly, squealing with happiness. "We've missed you so much! Couldn't you have stayed here?"

"Oh, yes, luv," Scarlette gasped. "I could have indefinitely left my husband and two children to stay with ye. What ever in the world was I thinking?"

"Your sarcasm is thicker than syrup," Topher added as he entered with another boy of about eight. This boy, Damian, liked to hide things and keep them for later. In fact, judging by his nervous status behind his father, he'd probably taken the flowers from the foyer and had them stuffed under his vest.

"Where's Lizzy?" Scarlette asked. "And Diana?"

"Diana hasn't spoken to us in two years," Robin answered. "I haven't even seen her in a long time."

"Is she really married to Norrington?" Scarlette asked with a sneer.

"Yep," Robin answered with a pleased little smile. "Better her than me, I say. The day those two wed was the day I felt better about stringing him on."

"That was just a bit mean hearted, don't you think?" Elizabeth asked, as if she hadn't done the same thing twelve years before.

"Nope," Robin said bluntly. "He was a jerk anyways. If he thought I ever felt anything other than remote recognizance, he was wrong."

"Gee, and I thought you two looked so _cute_ together," Scarlette stage whispered. Robin shot her a deadly look.

"Watch it, Maxwell," she spat.

"Maxwell?" Scarlette repeated, smirking. "I haven't heard that one in a long time, babe. I'm sure you know what my name is."

Robin merely glared. Scarlette shrugged.

"So where's Lizzy?" Scarlette asked, attempting to break the tension. Robin perked up again and began explaining.

"She should be back tomorrow. They're visiting David's parents." Of course, no one knew where David's parents lived. It was probably a good thing too because if someone knew their secret, the Perkins would be in big trouble. They belonged to a race of merfolk called the Tyrnise and could change form depending on whether or not they were in the water. They appeared perfectly human while on land.

The conversation at the Turner's house went on until dinner was served. Scarlette was given a room on the third floor where she sat alone.

…

"Why hello, Mr. Sparrow," a gravely old voice said as Jack was dragged into his cell.

"Who's there?" Jack asked. The room was dark enough that the other man's features were hidden.

"Oh, I think you know me well enough, boy," the voice said again. "You met me in London last I remember. I always knew you'd escape."

"Old Cheese?" Jack exclaimed with a mixture of disgust and mirth. "Why are you in Port Royal?"

"Oh, no reason. Got released due to a rogue cannonball in London, hitched onto a ship leaving the port and ended up here. It's been ten years, has it not?"

"Damn long time. Why aren't you dead? And how did you recognize me?"

"Jack, you look exactly the same. Maybe a bit more tired, but the same. Your hair is still jet black, your skin still taught. As for me not being dead, well, you don't get exposed to much while in jail. I've been here in this cell for only two years but it was for a just cause."

"What did you do?"

"Kilt somebody."

"Really?" Jack asked, settling against the all too familiar stone wall. "Who was it?"

"A very annoying woman."

"Oh?"

"Her voice still haunts my dreams. I think the only reason I was thrown in jail was because she happened to be the wife of a British Naval officer. Trust me. You would have done the same thing. She was trying to strangle my dog! She started with petting it, then hugging it, and before you knew it, my poor little dog's eyes had bugged out and it was crying. Bloody wench was killing my little dog! She woulda' squeeshed it's poor little brains out had I not interfered. So I pushed her and she started squeaking about something else. I had no choice! I HAD to kill her!" Old Cheese was breathing hard and Jack was trying not to appear repulsed.

"What was her name?"

"Hell if I know."

"Ah, well. I suppose if she deserved it ..." '_This guy is worse than last time I saw him_!' Jack fidgeted, trying to get comfortable. He noticed an old dog sitting under a bench near the far wall and decided to give it a try. He crawled over to the door and started whistling.

"Come on, boy. Don't be scared of ol' Jack. Come on. You bring them keys to me and I swear you'll eat like a king for the rest of your life. Come on, boy."

"Now, Jack," Old Cheese cackled. "You know that ain't gonna work."

Jack sighed and sat back in the cell. "Can't blame me for tryin'. If a man wants out enough, there's nothin' he won't try."

"Sounds like that _Black Thief _guy everyone's talking about," Old Cheese muttered. "I hear tell that he's always doin' somethin' crazy like. Reminds me of a younger version of yourself."

Jack glanced over at Old Cheese. "Who?"

"Haven't you heard?"

Jack had not patience for games that day. "Would I be asking if I had? Out with it, you bilious bag of barnacle spit!"

"I can't pronounce his name. Something like Nore or Navel, or something like that. Somethin' French. Anyway, that word is preceded by Brigande and I've heard several different translations of the name such as Black Pirate, Ebony Thief, Evil Bandit. You get the idea. He's about ten years younger than yourself. 'Bout same size, too. His real name is Morgan Maxwell." (This is not to be confused with Mulligan Maxwell, who was a real pirate.)

Jack schooled his face to hide his shock. He was thinking of Scarlette's brother, Nick Maxwell, who had died ten years earlier. Could he have possibly lived?

"Tell me, friend," Jack began. "What does this Maxwell character look like?"

"He's not one to easily forget, Sparrow," Old Cheese continued. "He wears elaborately tailored frock coats, usually in black or the most dark of reds. His hat would put the Governor to shame and his eyes, oh, Jack. His eyes can turn you into whatever he wishes. If you be a woman, he'll melt your very soul until you're weeping at his feet. If you be a man, then, unless you possess some manner of distraction, and between you and me, you'll have no problem, you're going to be intimidated out of your mind."

"Right," Jack muttered sarcastically.

"His manner and appearance do not calculate to please," Old Cheese continued in a fervor. "His hair, usually hidden, is well kept, though no extraordinary color. His eyes are frightening in their utter pureness of hue."

Jack was starting grow bored with Old Cheese's talk of supposed great pirates. This Morgan Maxwell person couldn't be too difficult to handle.

"As impressive as all that sounds," Jack rallied. "That still leaves me with the question of his physical appearance."

"I don't know what he looks like, honest," the filthy man shrugged.

"You don't know?" Jack muttered.

"I've never seen 'im," Cheese cried in defense. Jack sighed heavily and covered his face. He was tempted to shout at the man in his frustration with the day in general.

"Are you looking for it too?" Old Cheese asked suddenly.

"What? Looking? What are you talking about?" Jack uncovered one eye, and then the other, placing his hands on his knees.

"For _La Langue de Serpente _of course," Old Cheese answered. "Morgan's going after it, though no one knows where it's hidden."

Jack just gave him a blank stare. Old Cheese sighed and went into another spiel.

"There is said to be a great treasure somewhere," Old Cheese began. "Hidden for so long that no one even remembers who hid it, except for the fact that there were five men. Each created a certain clue as to the whereabouts of their fortune. There's a little poem that goes along with the legend, not that it means much.

"_One spill of gold, a flattened scale_

_One drop of blood, a ruby eye,_

_One sprig of green, an emerald tail,_

_One dreg of black, an onyx lie_

_And at last, the violet thread,_

_Amethyst twines the lines of the dead_."

Jack sat still, breathing slowly. He hadn't any clue as to what the poem meant. One thing was for sure, he wasn't about to go gallivanting after some treasure. He had one of his own. Not even the thought of this Morgan guy could make him try.

"You should really try to find it," Old Cheese prodded.

"And what is my incentive?"

"Do you not dream of riches?" Old Cheese asked incredulously.

"Nope," Jack said bluntly, sending the old man into a fit of wheezing.

"Wh—Why not?" Old Cheese stammered. "You're a pirate, are you not?"

"Yes," Jack agreed. "But, if I really wanted to, I could retire. I'm pretty well off."

"Jack, you're a pirate," Old Cheese pointed out rather superfluously. "Not just any pirate, you're Captain Jack Sparrow, the man of the cursed ship, _The Black Pearl_! Aren't you lord of the Caribbean, as well?"

"Your point being?" Jack asked, slumping against the wall, allowing his hat to fall over his eyes.

"The Snake's Tongue isn't just a treasure," Old Cheese told him mysteriously. "He who finds it, well, no one is really sure, but the legends say that there is a magical spell set upon the place. He who finds it will either be gifted … or cursed."

"That's nice," Jack muttered, allowing his eyes to flutter closed.

"Well, aren't you going to ask me about how one is cursed or gifted?"

"How long will it take you to tell me?"

"Well …."

…

The observer entered the pub and looked around for the bright blue turban. It didn't take long to find the go between. There, flitting from table to table was Ruby, his employer's advisor. She was posing as a whore—excuse me, prostitute—excuse me, ho—excuse me … well, you get it.

The Observer, whose real name was actually Jericho, walked up to Ruby and made his fearful 'come hither' look. She played along effortlessly, always the actress, grabbing his cravat and pulling him in close.

"Shall we go … upstairs?" she asked. Jericho smiled, his teeth flashing nicely against his dark face. He followed her up the wooden stairs and into an uninviting room that was lit only by a single candle. There was a dark shadow near the end of a grimy table. It held a man's shape but didn't seem to be moving at all.

"Sit here," Ruby commanded, loosing the seductive grin she'd used to fool the pub's men. "Jericho's here. Hey, wake up!" She put a hand on the forehead of the shadowed figure.

"Don't touch me," a voice from the darkness commanded. "You know how much I despise it."

"It isn't touch you despise," Ruby argued. "It's _my _touch you despise. Though I can't imagine why. Everybody wants _me_ to touch them, hee, hee."

Jericho sat uncomfortably in his chair, waiting for the face of his employer to come into the small pool of light created by the candle. He didn't want Ruby to touch him, either.

"Well," the man said, slightly annoyed. "You came to this place so I assume you have something to report. Speak."

"Well," Jericho began nervously. "The Sparrows have arrived and Jack is already being held in jail. The children and Scarlette are at the Turner Estate and _the Pearl _is in the harbor."

"These things I know," the voice answered. "How am I going to get my treasure though, if Mr. Sparrow is in jail? I am counting on him to find it for me. He seems to be good with those kinds of things."

"That's the thing, boss," Jericho continued. "He isn't at all interested in going after it. He seems to be content with what he has already. Plus, even if he did want to find it, he'd need the three items to even get in. You know what I'm talkin' about? A drop of pure hearted blood, a mermaid's scale, and not to mention that bloody Warrior stone. Who the hell has a warrior stone? What the hell _IS _a warrior stone? He doesn't have those things! No pure blood in that man, no mermaid scale and I don't think he's got warrior written anywhere in his job description."

"You're talking tires me," the voice muttered, waving a hand in Jericho's direction. "Figure something out. I'd do it myself except I'm trying to get this knot in my shoulder to stop twitching."

"Oooh, poor baby," Ruby crooned. "Let me fix that." She moved into the darkness.

"Don't touch me!" he exclaimed. "Have you got anything better to tell me, Jericho?"

"I have an idea of how to get Sparrow to comply, but as for his ingredients …"

"The Turner man," Ruby suggested. "He's so pure I don't know how he and that little wife of his get it on. I'd like a tumble with that one, so cute he is."

"Ick," the shadow remarked. "Will you please refrain from speaking as well?"

"Perfect," Jericho nodded. "That's an easy one to accomplish, but the other two ingredients won't be that simple, you know."

"Who cares. It's Jack who'll do the dirty work, not us. What's your plan?"

"Well, it's like this."

…

(Before the above conversation)

"And that's all I have to do?" Jack asked sarcastically. "Find this treasure/mystery along with using some pretty odd ingredients to open a bloody door, not to mention that poem which leads me to believe there's more than just those three ingredients you've given me."

"Well," Old Cheese shrugged. "The first three are the easiest ones to acquire. Blood of one who's pure, a mermaid's scale, and a warrior stone."

"What the hell is a warrior stone?" Jack asked, definitely frustrated.

"No one knows."

"Ah, well. That makes it just a little more difficult, doesn't it?"

"Well, it sounds bad, but nothing's too hard for you, I bet," Old Cheese told him in flattering tones. Jack became slightly suspicious.

"Is there some reason why you want me to find this treasure?" he asked apprehensively.

"Hmm? No," Old Cheese answered. "It's only that it was time it was found and it seems only fitting that you, the conqueror of Barbossa and captain of _The Black Pearl_ should be the one to find it. It's been ten years since you pulled off one of your adventures."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "You were able to spring me from the tower … and somehow I ended up in a tavern … could you reenact that trick and maybe get me out of here?"

Old Cheese laughed. "'Twas not _my_ powers what made that hole in the wall of the tower cell that lead out of captivity. I am but a man. The crown has arrested more than one non-hume, however, and oft times wondered to where they disappeared. That doesn't change the fact that there is still this treasure."

They continued to argue over whether this treasure should be found at all while Norrington listened from around the hall.

'_Hmmm_,' he thought to himself. '_This is bound to end not so well for all parties involved. Perhaps I should have not placed him so close to company._'

…

Damn. I think I've lost my touch. It's just not flowing like the first one. Maybe it's just stress. I found a house, guys! I'm moving at the end of the school year. Birthday countdown is ... 21 days! Three weeks and I'm 18. Kinda cool. It means I can legally sell beer. Hee hee. Someone bought me rum flavored saltwater taffy. Hee! Smoosh!

**Actually, I'm 20 now … Revisited.**


	3. Chapter II: Kidnapping Rumors

Bonjour! How is everybody. I'm going to start putting dates on my chapters. The first one is still being posted as I'm writing this, the date of beginning being the 25th of April. Well, boys and girls. Two weeks until I can escape this hell-hole. The way I figure it, if I leave before the end of the school year, then it'll be MY idea and not my parents'. Hah!

Had auditions for Les Misérables yesterday. They told me I was a soprano! I found that very strange and those of you who know me understand why.

Blah, blah, blah, on with the story.

**Chapter II –Kidnapping Rumors**

Scarlette meandered through the streets of Port Royal, her cloak covering the rapier at her waist. She was fishing for rumors or gossip about Jack but all she kept hearing about was another pirate by name of _Le Brigande Noir_. She understood that this meant literally the Black Thief but other than that, she had never heard of him.

She stood near a group of gossiping street women chattering about like a gaggle of geese and listened.

"Oh, yes. He's terrifying," one said.

"I heard he eats people's brains," another added shivering.

"No," a man began, putting an arm around one of the women. "But I've got a name for you."

The girls listened intently, and Scarlette, forgetting where she was, bent to tie her shoe to discover she hadn't worn tennis shoes in years. She listened however to what the man had to say.

"His name is Morgan Maxwell and he's planning to go after that mysterious legend. I doubt it even exists."

"Of course, no one thought _The Black Pearl _really existed either, and look out in the bay. It's always possible," one suggested.

"I don't know much more about the guy," the man continued. "But common knowledge is, if he and Jack Sparrow ever met … whooee! That's a fight I wouldn't want to miss! Apparently, this Morgan guy thinks he's a better pirate than Jack ever was or ever will be. Funny thing is, this guy is only like 28 or around there. How can he be much better than Jack was at that age?"

"Jack has always been so wily … he's not just good, he's smart."

Scarlette was so enraptured by the conversation that she had forgotten to look inconspicuous. Could this person possibly be Nick? She stood up and accosted the man.

"How much exactly do you know of this man?" The women looked at her in slight fear. "I'm willing to pay for the information."

"Who are you?" the man asked.

"That's none of your business unless I care to make it so," she told him blatantly. "Now, tell me."

The man, hearing her accent and authority obeyed quickly. "He's tall, taller than me. Anger is his strongest emotion, or at least it's what he lets anyone see. He was born in the colonies, around 1741."

"How sure are you of his age?" Scarlette demanded. If she had been born in this time, it would have been the same year. If this was a definite, the perpetrator wasn't Nick, her brother.

"Oh, most definite," the man answered her. "There are records to prove that. It is not his age that is questionable. Mostly, it is his ship. No one has ever seen it, though many have heard its name spoken. It seems to be more a superstition than a fact. It's called _The Necromancer_."

"Interesting," Scarlette commented. "One who controls the dead. A very fascinating name for a ship. But no one has seen it, you say? No one at all?"

"Not a soul," the man answered. He scrunched his eyebrows. "Have we met before? You look vaguely familiar."

"Oh, I doubt it," she told him nervously. "I just have one of those memorable faces." She turned and left quickly before they could recall where they'd seen her.

One of the women gasped suddenly.

"What's wrong?" the man asked.

"That was her!"

"Who?"

"Scarlette Sparrow!"

…

Elizabeth walked into the living room, summoned by the butler. There was a young black man seated on one of her couches, his dark features beautiful in the filtered light coming from the window. He wore a blue beaded headband and a red tunic over black pants, his semi muscular arms bare except for many golden bracelets.

"Hello?" Elizabeth began, stepping timidly into the room. "Excuse me, but I do not believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you."

The man turned his head and smiled at her. His hair was short and crimped tightly, held to his head without help. He stood and held out his hand.

"Hello, Mrs. Turner," he spoke with a slightly raspy voice, void of any accent that Elizabeth could name. "I am here primarily to ask for your aid. My name is Jericho."

"Oh … what aid is it that you need from me, Mr. Jericho?"

"Just Jericho, ma'am. I … well; I kinda need to show you. Come with me, please." He held onto her hand and walked quickly out the door with her in tow. As soon as they crossed the grounds, he let go and she followed behind as best she could.

"Excuse me, Mr. Jericho, but where are we going?" she cried, picking up her skirts and following.

"Just Jericho. You'll find out in a minute," he answered. "It's not safe to talk here."

Elizabeth continued to follow him until he got to the wharf. He stopped at one of the many piers that bordered Port Royal's beaches and waited for her to catch up. She was clutching her bodice, slightly annoyed that she had worn the corset that day.

"Mr. Jericho!" she exclaimed. "It is not dignified to run a lady of my status around town like that. You should have called for a carriage or something of the sort. I do not take lightly to discrepancies such as these. What ever aid you need of me better be of dire importance or I'm going to find someway to repay you."

Jericho only smiled. "I am not a Mr., lady. Just Jericho. And it's good. Trust me. Here we go," he held out his arm and she took it, allowing him to escort her up a gangway and into a ship. The ship was not a new model, the wood cracked and weathered in places and the planks creaked underfoot. However, the size of the ship was quite impressive. Elizabeth was led to the other side of the ship and Jericho motioned out into the empty water.

"What do you see?" he asked.

"Water, I would imagine," she answered. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Look more closely," he prodded, giving her a nudge. "Look past the water or the sky. Trust me."

Elizabeth, not knowing what this crazy man wanted, squinted into the horizon. She noticed a slight haze in front of her. The air seemed to scramble the outlines of the horizon and the clouds, as if it had been a blurred photograph, though she didn't have that to compare it to.

Jericho smiled as she leaned out over the gunwales. He gave her back a little tap and she tumbled out of sight. She screamed shrilly, but the sound was cut off. A sailor ran over to look but saw no one. Jericho had vanished as well. There were no splash marks below. They had simply disappeared from sight.

…

"This is boring," Jack muttered from his cell.

"Well, jail ain't supposed ter be fun, ya know," Old Cheese commented.

Jack grunted and pulled his hat lower to block his vision of the foul smelling man.

"So … er ye gonna go after that treasure?" Old Cheese asked.

"No!" Jack exclaimed. "Leave me the hell alone, man. I've already told you before. I don't want to go after this treasure if it means this Maxwell kid is going to be trying to best me. Not to mention, I don't like using my friends for ingredients. Will may be pure, but I am not touching his blood just to get a bloody treasure, savvy."

Old Cheese shrugged. "You'll cave. I guarantee it."

"If I have to listen to you for much longer, I might agree to anything," Jack snickered. The door to the hall opened with a clang and Jack straightened up, pushing his hat up.

Scarlette walked in, escorted by Gillette. It was later in the day and she looked positively flustered. Her eyebrows were knit in a frown and her mouth followed suit.

"What's wrong, luv?" he asked her, standing and moving to the bars.

"Elizabeth can't be found anywhere," she answered, giving Gillette a warning glance. He smiled at her.

"Maybe she's just out with Keira or William," Jack suggested. "Where's Will?"

"He's out looking for her. Apparently, a visitor by name of Jericho was at the house earlier today and since then, no one has seen or heard from Elizabeth." Gillette put a hand on Scarlette's shoulder.

"Time's almost up, Miss," he told her. She smacked his hand away and ignored him.

"Topher is concerned that it may be part of the disappearances of the local women," she continued. "I don't know much about it but there have been several missing girls all over Jamaica, mostly in Spittlefield and Port Royal. No one ever knows where they've gone and nothing ever comes back, not a clue." Scarlette was getting very distraught over this issue. "What if Eliz—"

"Quiet, darlin'," Jack told her. "Don't think about that. If anyone is capable of figuring this out, it's that bloody whelp, Will Turner. He loves that woman too much to just let it sit." He reached through the bars and took her small hand. "How're we doin' on the subject of my release?"

"Well, Norrington wants this relic," Scarlette answered. "But I don't remember handling such a thing. Even if we did take it, it's at Isla de Muerta. If we go off to get it, you could be sentenced while I'm gone. I can't let that happen."

"All right, Miss," Gillette spoke. "Time's up."

"There's a rumor going around," Scarlette began, still ignoring Gillette. "Have you heard of Morgan Maxwell?"

"Your brother, I'm thinking," Jack nodded. Scarlette shook her head emphatically.

"No. He isn't my brother, no matter the similarities. Had I been born here, we'd be nearly the same age, same year. He's older than my brother would have been. Word on the street is he's after you, Jack."

"Well," Jack shrugged. "How old is he? 28? You're never a problem to deal with. How bad could it be?"

"Well," Scarlette stuttered. "There is the slightest chance that he might be one of my ancestors."

Jack raised one eyebrow. "I suppose it's possible. Has he a ship? What else did you discover?"

Gillette moved to grab her arm and she turned around and stomped in his direction. "Don't touch me, you cad!"

"Sorry, I'm just doing my job."

"Well, you don't have to do it to us," Jack told him.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but I'm under orders," he muttered. They both turned and gave him nearly identical exasperated expressions. He backed away and leaned against the far wall.

"His ship is called _The Necromancer _but no one has ever seen it," she told him. "As for his crew, nothing's ever been told."

Jack shook his head. "Are you certain that this isn't your brother?"

"Pretty certain." Gillette stomped his foot impatiently and came striding over to Scarlette. She turned quickly, seized the arm he had been reaching out to her, and using his forward momentum and her back in a neat about-face maneuver, she flipped him over her head. He landed painfully and with a great deal of noise on his back, smacking into the hard stone floor. His head hit a second later and he curled, moaning in pain.

"Nice one, luv," Jack commended. Scarlette snorted. Gillette got to his feet painfully and fixed a glare of pure hatred on the two of them.

Norrington came walking down the stone stairs of the hallway and Gillette immediately began pacing in worry … well, waddling in worry. He looked like a navy colored penguin with vanilla ice-cream on his head. Norrington dismissed him with all too much understanding of the stubborn nature that had turned him from his duty. He looked Scarlette right in the eye, attempting to use his considerable height to his advantage. She just looked up at him sweetly.

"Mrs. Sparrow," he began. "You do know that the intimidation of an officer is an offense."

"Dear, dear Commodore," she sang. "You wouldn't toss me in jail just because your little flunky was too spineless to take me out of here by force, now would you?"

Norrington hated talking to this woman in times of unrest between the navy and the Sparrows. She always seemed to outsmart him, embarrass him or manage to outwit, outmaneuver, and just all around outclass him. He wisely did not answer her but escorted her out himself, not getting rough but for the iron like grip he kept on her upper arm.

Once they were outside, she grabbed his cravat and pulled him down until they were eye to eye.

"First; Elizabeth is missing. Find her." Scarlette's voice was not playful. "Second; I want him out of there. I don't care how you do it, and you know what I mean by out. Dead is _not_ an option, savvy?"

"We have a deal, Mrs. Sparrow," Norrington answered curtly. "You bring me the snake, he gets out."

Scarlette yanked on his cravat and let him go, giving a sort of spring motion like window blinds in alternate centuries. She turned without acknowledging this offer and left.

…

Will Turner walked briskly back and forth, letting out pathetic little noises reserved for the mice hidden beneath church pews. He was attempting not to let his fear and grief spill out through his eyes. Bootstrap entered the room and noticed Will pacing. He motioned to his son and not two seconds after they had sat down, Scarlette entered the room, still in a flustered mood.

"Any news?" Bootstrap asked.

"Not anything you'd want to hear," she answered, sitting beside Will, who was staring at the stones in the fireplace, his hair unkempt, hanging over his eyes. Scarlette moved to brush a strand away from his eyes and he flinched, moving back and staring at her. She withdrew her hand and watched him, wishing she could lift his pain someway.

A loud crash brought their attention to the front window. A large rock had been tossed through the beautiful glass, landing on the floor. The light in the room was minimal, that of dusk without lanterns, the sallowing tone from the filtered sunset gave everything an older look to it. The rock sat obstinately on the ornate rug. Bootstrap moved to pick it up.

"There's something attached," he announced, untying a string from the stone and slipping a crumpled sheet of paper from under it. He tossed the rock back outside and brought the note back to his seat.

"To whom it may concern," he began, eyes drifted back and forth with the words on the page. "May it be known that Elizabeth Turner is now in the possession of One Who Must Not Be Named and will not be released unless the secret of _Langue de Serpente _is delivered into their hand. If these demands are ignored, harassment of your person will continue."

Will stood up and began pacing again. Scarlette sucked in a breath. Bootstrap snorted in anger. "There's no such thing as the _Langue de Serpente_! It's just a legend! A treasure so large and a secret so powerful that no one really understands. It doesn't exist!"

"Maybe that's what they were talking about," Scarlette muttered. "Whoever wrote that note sounds like he cross bred _Harry Potter _with _Phantom of the Opera_. (Neither of which the author owns) But if that treasure's what the kidnapper's after, as well as that Maxwell guy—"

"Who?" Will exclaimed. "Maxwell? Your brother?"

"No," she answered. "Apparently there is another Maxwell sailing out there on a ship by name of _Necromancer_. He's feared all right, but no one has ever seen his ship. He's going after some treasure that's supposed to be hardly believable as well. Maybe they're the same."

"Why the hell would he take Elizabeth?" Bootstrap asked.

Scarlette shrugged. "Maybe to insure that Jack wouldn't go after the treasure. She may be just a hostage, though why he would kidnap Elizabeth to keep Jack away is beyond me."

"Probably because he knows that I'll do whatever he wants as opposed to Jack, who would trick him out of it some way," Will spoke softly. "No one trusts pirates, not even their own kind."

"Especially their own kind," Bootstrap added.

Scarlette was shaking her head. "It still doesn't feel right. I can't really understand what's wrong about it, but it seems as if there's something missing."

"There's a damn lot missin'," Bootstrap exclaimed. "Like how we're supposed to get to this treasure, or what we need to procure it. The _Langue de Serpente _is not just a walk-on-in-and-grab-what-you-want kind of treasure. From what I understand, one has to go through all sorts of tests and things to get even to the destination, and then, he's got to get through booby traps or what all. No one really knows. It's like Isla de Muerta. The only ones who really know anything about it are those who've been there. As far as we know, no one has ever seen the _Langue de Serpente_."

"Why is it called the Snake's Tongue?" Scarlette asked. "Or Snake's Language, for another translation. There must be some explanation for that. I mean … are there snakes like in Indiana Jones or is it like a double road like an actual snake's tongue?"

"What's Indiana Jones?" Bootstrap asked.

Scarlette smiled. "Nothing important."

"And while we're at it,' he continued. "What's Harry Potter? And that Phantom thing you mentioned?"

"Never _mind_."

Bootstrap nodded in expectance. "This must be like that Styrofoam thing, huh?"

She continued to smile. The sound of hurried footsteps sounded in the hall.

"I don't want to! You're stupid, you know that, right?"

"Shut up! You're just a girl anyways!"

"A girl that can beat you, that is."

Sharon and William were arguing again. They had been at it since the Sparrows had arrived and no one could really tell if they liked each other at all. Robin seemed to believe that they would grow up and get married someday. The children were adamantly opposed to this idea, though with Sharon's gene pool, this theory was well built. Everyone remembered the fights between Ryoko Maxwell and Jack Sparrow, though if one mentioned Ryoko to the children, they would be hard pressed to know who she was. Scarlette had left that name and alias far behind her, though she was the same person.

"Interesting," Bootstrap said all of a sudden. "Jack is stuck in jail, leaving Scarlette alone and now Elizabeth has been kidnapped, leaving Will alone. Maybe whoever is behind all this wants to use you two."

"That doesn't make any sense," Scarlette answered. "At least not with me. I didn't receive a ransom note, though getting Jack out will be a bit difficult. I think, if Jack being held means anything, it's to keep him out of the way."

Will just sat on the sofa, rocking back and forth slowly. He seemed so lost without Elizabeth. Will was not one to suffer lightly. Wimp was not a word to describe him, which meant he was genuinely distraught. He made a small noise.

"Could it possibly be … Barbossa?" he whispered. Bootstrap and Scarlette stiffened.

"No, I don't think so," Bootstrap answered. "His body was burned."

"Not only that," Scarlette added. "According to folklore, if the body is burned and spread over different bodies of water, there is almost no chance of recovery."

"Almost?" Will asked.

"Well," she continued. "There are always the incredibly strong ones. A few examples are (DISCLAIMER! DON'T EAT ME!) Anne Rice. She's written a few interesting stories. Two of her vampires were virtually indestructible. One was burned by daylight twice in a row and he survived. Then there was another who had been burnt by fire who jumped into a canal and yet another, who everyone thought was dead, etc. Of course, in those cases, the vampires were all hundreds of years old. Quite a few of hers were ancient but Barbossa was hardly a year old, in death anyway, when we killed him. The only reason he lived through the first burning was that Barton James, an ancient, had made him. He was too powerful for that."

"So he's dead?" Will asked again, hugging his arms. Scarlette nodded emphatically.

"A shark ate his head. Hard to survive a trauma like that. Besides, why would Barbossa take a name like Morgan Maxwell?"

"Mommy?" Sharon piped up. "When is father going to get out of jail?"

"When Norrington stops being a prick," she answered bluntly. No masking for the Sparrow children.

"Oh. What's a prick?"

"I'm not telling you _that _yet."

…

It was dark and slightly musty in the room. She could hear the water against the hull and knew that they weren't far from shore. Sitting up in her dark confinement, Elizabeth blinked the sleep out of her eyes.

"Hello?" she shouted. "Help! Let me out!"

Only laughter met this complaint. A door opened somewhere above her and a figure entered the room. She could tell where they were due to a bit of light coming from the lines between the planks. The interruption of his body alerted her.

"Who are you?" she backed out of reach and tensed for violence.

"I am the Devil."

Elizabeth gasped and began to tremble. The Devil laughed.

"No, no, silly girl. I was only joking, though I have been called the devil before. No, I am not him. I am just an entrepreneurial pirate who has found a way to get the _Langue de Serpente _without dirtying my own hands too much."

"What do you mean?" she asked, knowing that if she could learn his plan and escape, she might be able to thwart him.

"Well, Miss," he began. "No doubt you know of Jack Sparrow's prowess when it comes to things like this. I intend to use him to get my treasure. In doing so, it was essential to kidnap you."

"Oh …" she began. "I think you're a bit confused. You may have actually … taken the wrong person." After she told him this, she wished she hadn't. Confusion to their enemies was much better than anything else she could come up with on the spot.

"Not likely," he told her. "You're no doubt thinking I confused you with Scarlette. Trust me, girl. It is extremely tricky to confuse her with anyone. No. I've decided to leave her for last. I've been told she's too difficult to hold for any length of time. Very high maintenance. My second objective is to acquire another of your friends, however. Not to worry. She shant be harmed. I won't send Jericho out again. He was too noticeable and his methods were less than discreet. Don't worry, lass. You'll have company soon."

"Let me go! Please, sir, whatever your name is. Just let me go now!"

He laughed. "Such a woman." He pulled himself up and out of sight. She hadn't gotten a good look at him in the darkness.

Elizabeth growled low in her throat, stifling a scream of frustration. She needed to get out of here now. She knew what would happen if he continued to grab her friends. They would have no choice but to find that blasted treasure.

…

[London, England, 2014]

"This is stupid," Kami muttered into the telephone. "You're tellin' me I've got to bloody baby sit that little git in Jamaica? I'm not flying my arse all the way down there for that! I've got a life other than your puny little nephew you know! I mean—what? Oh! Well, 50,000 pounds is quite a bit of money, sir. Well, I suppose I could spend the weekend there. All right, you've got yourself a deal, sir. Friday afternoon? All right. I'll be there when I can sometime around then. Cheerio then." Kami clicked down the phone. "Bloody rich bastard. Guess I'd better reserve a flight. If he's payin' all expenses in addition to the fee, I suppose it's worth it."

"What happened?" one of her customers asked. She owned a small shop in London that sold antiques.

"Oh, not much," she answered, wrapping up an old compass for the man. "Just one of my contacts. Very rich. He wants me to baby-sit his nephew, who is a terror. I told him I'd do it last week but I had no idea I'd have to fly out to their summer home in the Caribbean." She gave the man his change and compass and ripped off a receipt. "I told him no until he gave me my wages. £ 50,000 for dealing with the little brat for two and a half days. My return trip home is paid for as well!"

"Lucky girl, I'd say," he told her, taking the package from her and placing his change in his pocket.

"Bye," she waved as he left. "Enjoy." The man exited the room and the glass door clinked shut, the bells attached making a loud noise.

…

[1769]

Robin left the house that night, wanting only to see the water under the full moon. It was stuffy in her house and Damian was over at William's house along with Sharon, Joaquin, and Keira. Topher, Will, Bootstrap, and Norrington were meeting to discuss the fact of Elizabeth's kidnapping. Jack was in jail and Scarlette was visiting him. Lizzy, David, and little Lenore had yet to return and so Robin was alone.

She walked quickly along the streets of Port Royal, enjoying the ocean borne breezes, allowing her hair to blow freely. She raised her skirts just a tad, the breeze finding her legs as she walked.

As she neared the beach, she heard a woman's voice. It seemed to float on the air. Robin looked around, trying to find the direction it was coming from. If she had to compare it to anyone, she'd say it was a mix of Lizzy and Scarlette's voices. It was strong enough to be heard over all the supplementary sounds like Scarlette's usually was, but it lacked all her nuances. Lizzy's voice was more to the point, lacking the not so superfluous bravado. Whatever the case, there was a voice singing long, vibrating notes and Robin wanted to find it.

She began to move quickly through the streets, weaving between the lanes, trying to keep the voice in hearing distance, noticing that there weren't many others out at the moment. Almost as soon as she noticed this, Robin bumped into a young woman.

"I'm sorry," she apologized to Robin rather distractedly. "Do you hear it?"

"I do," Robin nodded. "I'm trying to find it."

"Me too!" the young woman answered enthusiastically. "Will you come with me?"

And so they did. Robin led the way, the younger girl following. They arrived at the beach and ran onto the pier, the clarity of the voice growing as they reached the harbor.

"Where is it coming from?" Robin asked in frustration. "It seems as though we've arrived, but I don't see anything." A group of birds took wing just to her left, startled by movement. Robin hissed and looked over, alarmed by their sudden flight. The other girl's eyes were wide and dark under the moon.

"I don't see anything either," she agreed.

"Dat's 'cause dere's notin' ta see, mon," a voice told her. The two women turned to find a bronzed man about their age with matted dreadlocks and a very Rastafarian appearance down to his multicolored shirt. The fact that this particular religion was not established around this time mattered not. The clothing, accent, and hairstyle was not Rasta, but Jamaican. Robin, being from the future, automatically thought Rasta, however. Certain stereotypes were lodged in deep.

"It's a voice, always dere 'round dis time o' night. Jus' depends on who hears it," he walked towards them. "What yer names, eh?"

"Well, my name is Galatia," the girl told him earnestly. Robin didn't answer. She was getting suspicious about the man. She noticed that the music had ceased.

"Get dat one, mon!" he exclaimed suddenly. Robin spun around, finding a very ethnic looking boy behind her. He reached to grab her but she hit him hard in the sternum with the heel of her hand. Her hand slid against the silk of his shirt as he doubled over.

"Run, girl," Robin exclaimed. Galatia had already been seized however. The ethnic boy was still after Robin, along with a taller man. All of them seemed to be fairly young.

"I hate dresses, and I hate these shoes, and _I HATE PERVERTED MEN_!" She whirled around in one count and struck out at the Jamaican one. He was kind of cute, but she was beyond caring. She missed a few times, but caught him in the jaw, sending him reeling. The foreign boy was circling at a safe distance and she began to run again.

"I am so going to kill one of these assholes," she muttered. The pier looked long, so much longer than usual. She began to doubt that she'd ever reach the end of it.

"I almost forgot," she continued to shout. "_I HATE CORSETS_!" She stopped again and waited, pretending to be out of breath. She hiked up her skirts and kicked the ethnic boy low in the stomach, making him bow over, winded.

"Take that, punk bitch," she squealed in delight, taking off again. Ten years of being in the 1700's did not even begin to curb her futuristic slang insults. She was laughing hard enough, looking behind her at her pursuers, that she fell down in shock. She had run into someone. She looked up and screamed in anger, attempting to kick up at whoever the figure above her was.

He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her over his shoulder with ease. She began kicking and thrashing with all her might, which was not something to be underestimated.

"Put me down now! I wouldn't ignore my threats if I wanted to live much longer. Let go, dammit!"

"I am not afraid of you, woman," he told her bluntly. "If you could hurt me, you would have done so by now."

"Shut the hell up, you pile of monkey shit! Put me down!"

"And what do you presume to do if I do not?"

"Give me a minute. I haven't thought up a punishment worthy of your stupidity yet."

"Well, then," he answered. "I suppose I'll just drop you here and now." He leaned over the edge of the pier and tossed her over. The others had already gone, along with poor Galatia. Quickly, the dark figure left as well and no one was the wiser. Funny, though that everyone had disappeared over the edge of the pier, yet not a splash sounded.

…

[London, England, 2014]

Heather hurried off to the airport. She was supposed to be flying home to Oregon to visit her family that day. She had finally gotten away from her job at the Embassy. She had been stationed in London over a year ago and, though she loved her mother, sister and father, she wasn't too thrilled about going home so early. She was supposed to go to Jamaica this weekend where her boyfriend was working. It was a chance she hadn't ever had. Well, a chance she'd never had in this century.

"Come on, go!" she exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel with her fist. She was 27 and had cut her hair ear length. It was cute, and bounced a little more than before.

She nervously looked at the clock. "Shit. If I don't get there in fifteen minutes, I'm going to miss my flight!" She leaned on her horn and waited. A moment of silence, and then fifty other horns answered. She slumped against her seat in anger.

Half an hour later, she arrived at the airport and was told that she had missed her flight but they would be happy to give her a discount on another flight leaving the same day. Heather looked at the schedules on the board and noticed a flight leaving for Spittlefield, Jamaica in about an hour. She smiled to herself.

"All right, I'd like to reschedule this flight, to this time and place." What the hell. She'd call her boyfriend and surprise him, not to mention dear old Mum.

…

[Somewhere in Mexico, 2014]

Claudia was sitting in her parents' rented hotel, looking through a catalogue when she happened to glance at something on the desk. It was a small golden statuette of Shiva that she'd taken once upon a time. For a second, she'd forgotten where she'd gotten it. It had come from the cave on Isla de Muerta, and it was a key to the past.

However, that did not explain why it was flashing.

"What the hell is going on?" Claudia asked aloud. She could see the old stains on the gold, remaining though it had been over ten years. She drew near with one finger and was surprised to feel warmth coming from the statuette.

"Oh, what the hell. Might as well see what's going on," she grasped the body of the statuette, pictured Port Royal, and was instantly and suddenly transported.

…

"Ooohhf!"

Scarlette staggered under the weight of the person who had just landed in her arms. Before even setting the person down, she looked into their face and made such an exclamation, Claudia squeaked.

"Ryo?"

"Claudia? How did you—what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you guys! Is that a sin?"

"You … I haven't seen you in ten years! Your hair! It's so short!"

"Oh, my god! Woman; what happened to you? You … you're so skinny! And your hair! It's past your ass!"

"And you _still _haven't got any meat on you."

"Um … excuse me," a male voice grumbled. They both turned to find Jack, still behind bars, still grumpy.

"Hi, Jack," Claudia greeted. "You don't look much different. Still sexy as ever. Am I right, Ryo?"

Scarlette blushed and Jack grinned devilishly. "Well, then, Miss. I had forgotten how some of you future women like to hack off all your hair. I commend you on it, however."

"How is everyone?" Claudia asked, leaning against the bars.

"Not as good as we could be," Scarlette answered. "Elizabeth's been kidnapped."

"Turner or Talbott?"

"Turner, and it wouldn't be Talbott anymore, remember? She married David Perkins."

"Oh, yeah," Claudia nodded. "Kidnapped? Keira Knightley Elizabeth got kidnapped? Who was it this time?"

"No one knows for sure," Scarlette continued. "But one of the theories is that Nick is still alive. There's a new pirate, by name of Morgan Maxwell who has designs on Jack's life and is trying to get some large treasure as well."

"Young bastard," Jack muttered. Scarlette gave him a look.

"He's 28, Jack," she answered. "That's the same age as me."

"Yeah, but that's different," he answered, putting his hands through the bars and gripping one of hers. "You're not trying to kill me."

"At the moment," Claudia muttered jokingly.

…

[San Francisco, 2014]

Chelsea Russell grabbed the microphone and screamed out the lyrics written by her very hand. The violin behind her escalated with her voice and the crowd before her went insane in their happiness. It was the band's debut concert.

_Crumpled Ballot _(hee hee hee!) had been together for only a month or so but the members, consisting of Chelsea Russell, Kristin Thornburg, and the boys that made up their electrical section had known each other for quite a while. Of course, Chelsea and Kristin had known each other longer than they had their drummer, keyboard, bassist, and guitarist.

They got back to the hotel and went to their respective rooms, the girls to one and the boys to the other. Chelsea and Kristin were both 25 now.

"That was interesting," Kristin commented, pulling on her straightened hair. There was a new chemical that she could put in her shampoo to straighten out her massive curls. Most people only had to use it once a week but she, having impossible hair, needed to redo it every night.

"What was so interesting about it?" Chelsea asked.

"I think Sean was there," she answered.

"That was him?" Chelsea exclaimed. "I thought I recognized that voice."

"It wasn't the voice I recognized," Kristin laughed. "Who else will scream 'I HAVE A STORM IN MY PANTS!' at the top of their lungs amongst people they don't know? Even if it _is_ San Francisco."

As soon as these words cleared her lips, there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," Chelsea answered, stepping lightly towards the door. It was one of the concierges.

"Miss, there are two … men _*cough* _downstairs who would like to speak with you. They are claiming that they are high school friends of yours."

"Well," Chelsea answered, slightly reluctantly. "It could be a ruse. How do we know they really are who they claim to be?"

"Because they gave me this picture of verification," the concierge answered, handing over a photograph. "They took it right there in the lobby. *cough*" Apparently, the man was having a hard time in keeping a straight face. Either that, or he was a chain smoker. Either was a possibility, seeing as it was California.

Kristin came over to look as well and the two girls burst out laughing. On it were two boys, as he'd said, though the manner in which they were would have made anyone laugh.

One, with longish brown hair was wearing a brilliant red tuxedo with a neon purple tie over a yellow polka dotted shirt. This was funny in itself, but the more hilarious factor of the picture was the man next to him. He had very big hair that was dyed a brilliant pink color and tied into pompom pigtail puffs. Still not too hilarious? Well, the puffy orange cocktail dress might make you laugh. Or the fact that on his large feet were stuffed into a pair of bright red spiked heels over green and purple striped stockings. Or maybe the fact that he was wearing bright red lipstick, hoop earrings that could choke a giraffe, pearls, and green eye makeup.

"Yes," Chelsea gasped between laughter. "We know them. Send them up here. Hee, hee, hee. Mwuahahahahaha!" She attempted to keep under wraps but couldn't control herself any longer.

A few minutes later, there was another knock on the door and … you guessed it … Sean and Tony walked in. They closed the door behind them. As soon as it clicked shut, Chelsea and Kristin broke into a fit of laughter.

The door adjoining the two rooms opened and their drummer peeked in, caught sight of the boys and quickly ducked back out. The other two members looked in. The door closed and one was heard saying, "Well, we _ARE _in San Francisco." The fact that they didn't ask the girls if they knew the freaks passed over them without a thought.

Chelsea hugged them both and Kristin tried to restrain herself from hyperventilating.

"Well, what are you doing here?" Chelsea asked, smiling broadly. Her short purple hair was promptly mussed as Tony ruffled it.

"We just might have heard about you being here, Miss Crumpled," he exclaimed.

"Actually," Sean answered. "We were trying to get started on our Air Mansion idea."

Blank looks bade them to continue.

"Well, it's like this," Tony began, sitting on the end of Kristin's bed. "There are cruise ships and tour buses but no air cruises, right? We figure we can build a giant airship. We were thinking marble."

"But Tony," Kristin told him skeptically. "Marble is hardly aerodynamic."

"Not to mention, heavy," Chelsea added.

"Shut up, miaow," Sean exclaimed. He kicked off the heels and ripped the dress off, sending the girls scrambling to cover their eyes for fear of a frightening sight. Tony was laughing as usual. They looked slowly to find him in knee length jean shorts and a bright orange shirt. Thank God. He kept the stockings, jewelry, and makeup however. He pulled a pair of shoes from his bag as Tony changed as well. Soon, Tony looked relatively normal and Sean, though wearing the proper garments assigned his gender, still looked insane. It was like someone had taken Basch _and _Reddas from FFXII, the two worst dressed characters, and combined them.

Kristin was looking for a brush to disentangle her already condensing hair when her necklace fell from her shirt.

It was a golden ring, also taken from the cave. It seemed to pulse with light and suddenly, everyone's eyes shifted to the moving light on the chain.

"What is that?" Chelsea asked, her blue eyes widening.

"It's one of the time keys," she answered, holding up the chain. She looked up at the boys. "To Scarlette's time."

"Should we go?" Tony asked in wonder. "My key never did that."

"Mine never has," Kristin agreed. "Maybe we should. It could be like a signal for help maybe."

"As corny as that sounds, I think we should go," Sean added. "God knows how much help we'd be." He snorted and shouted some comment about cylinders.

Chelsea, the one in the room who had never actually been back in time but knew the whole story nodded silently.

"Well, grab on, I guess," Kristin told them. They each touched a piece of the ring carefully and vanished as Kristin visualized their destination.

The drummer opened the door again. "Hello?"

…

[1769]

"Robin? Robin dear, wake up. Come on, Robin! Wake up! Please, wake up. Don't be dead!"

"If you stop whining and rubbing my face maybe I'll have a chance to get up, eh?" Robin exclaimed, pushing Elizabeth away in annoyance. "Where's Galatia?"

"Over here," the new girl squeaked. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I'm all right. Why didn't you run?"

"I was too scared!"

"Well, you had good reason, dear," Elizabeth assured her. Robin scoffed. A noise above them made them all draw together as a dark figure descended once again.

"Why hello, my little fatalities," he said. It was the same man who had threatened Elizabeth and carried Robin off.

"Who are you?" Robin asked.

"Oh? You don't know me? I'm the Devil."

"Sure," Robin smarted. "And I'm Madonna. Hey, I can wear a pointy bra better than she can anyways."

"Um … what?" the man asked.

"Never mind," Robin told him. "What's your name and purpose? I'll tell you now, you really don't want to rape any of us."

"I'm here for the treasure, woman," he snapped. "Rape is a most disgusting thing. I cannot even fathom it. No, I am more material in my wants, thank you."

"Okay, sure," she continued. "Well, what DO you—"

"Boss," a voice called down. "We've got an outline."

"All right, Jericho," the man answered. "Get down here and grab her then."

"What?" Robin exclaimed. "Wait a minute. What the hell are you doing?" Jericho and the Rasta dude came down and picked up Galatia, dragging the sobbing girl up the wooden steps.

"What are you going to do with her?" Robin asked. Elizabeth fainted dead away, flopping on the wooden floor lifelessly.

"We need her blood," he answered. Robin stood up quickly and ran to the stairs. He jumped up and grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her fast. She still couldn't see his face. The shadows were almost tangible, as if he could control them, wrapping them about his person.

"Don't go up there, girl."

"You'll kill her! What the fuck is wrong with you? Let me go or I'll fucking kill you myself! Aah!" She began to thrash in her attempt to forcing her way past him. She froze when she heard the scream. Galatia's voice cut through her very soul. The man forced her back down the stairs.

"Now stay down there unless you wish to share her fate."

"Who are you?"

He laughed and the cruel sound sent shivers up her spine. "I am the _Brigande Noir_. You are on the ship, _The Necromancer_. As for my name, you can call me Maxwell."

"Nick?" Robin exclaimed. "You little fucker! You're supposed to be dead!"

"Nick?" he asked. "Who's that? My name is Morgan. I've never heard of Nick."

"You're Ryoko's brother! But … You were killed! Gibbs killed you!"

"Who in Buddha's name is Ry—whatever you just said? I know Gibbs because he's also on my hit list but I don't know the other guy."

"She!" Robin exclaimed. "Ryoko Maxwell, now known by almost everyone as …"

"As what?"

"I just realized something," Robin said quickly.

"And that would be…?"

"Can't tell."

"Well, who is this other Maxwell person?"

"Not someone you want to tangle with, trust me. Especially if … never mind."

"God Dammit! I hate it when people do that! Just tell me!"

"Can't, won't."

"Blast!"

…

Scarlette and Claudia were walking down towards the Turner house when Scarlette sneezed loudly.

"_A tes souhaite_," Claudia told her. "You all right?"

"You know, there's a Japanese superstition," Scarlette answered. "That when someone sneezes, it means someone is conversing about them."

"Conversing?" Claudia asked. "Can't you just say 'talking', or 'gossiping'? Why do you have to talk so smart?"

"Sorry," Scarlette answered with a shrug. "It's not as if I do it on purpose."

"Liar," Claudia muttered. WOOOMF! A small girl landed in her arms.

At the same time, a less than small boy landed in Scarlette's arms. Both girls fell to the ground.

"What the—who are you?" Claudia exclaimed.

"Tony?" Scarlette asked in disbelief.

"Jaskins!" Tony shouted, nearly choking her in his enthusiasm. "I'm glad you're not dead!"

"Gee, thanks," she muttered, shoving at him. "Can you get off please?"

"Hey, where's Sean and Kristin?" Chelsea, who had helped Claudia up from the ground asked, looking around.

They all looked around for the other two of their party without much luck.

"Not here, apparently," Tony answered. "Although, if we wait in quiet long enough, we'll know where Sean landed for sure."

"Oh, God," Scarlette declared, paling slightly. "I can just imagine. What color is his hair and what is he wearing?"

"Not too much makeup," Tony said meekly. He tightened his grip on his backpack.

"You should have seen him earlier," Chelsea commented. "Come on. Let's go look."

"Wait," Scarlette stopped them. "We need to get you guys dressed properly first, unless you want to get lynched."

The girls were all dressed similarly. Short skirts, high, wicked looking boots, tight fitting shirts. Chelsea and Claudia's hair were both short and spiky. Scarlette looked at Tony and shook her head. Once he and Kristin were dressed 'normally', they'd fit right in, and Claudia's hair was long enough that it could be arranged to look 'normal'. Scarlette feared however, that Chelsea, who had purple hair, and Sean, who she hadn't seen yet, would attract too much attention. With the Company lurking about and the disappearances happening, she didn't want some sort of witch hunt happening in Port Royal. Quickly, she led all three of them off to the Turner Estate.

…

"We can't just go off after her," Norrington was arguing. "It's never that simple. You should know that. Remember the first encounter with Barbossa? We had to chase after him, along with you and Jack. I am not willing to—" He was cut off abruptly by the fact that Kristin appeared in front of him, a very confused look on her face. Two seconds later, Sean appeared in Norrington's lap, makeup and all. Norrington looked down at him and keeled over, quite unconscious.

"Well, I've never had _that _reaction before," Sean commented. "Hi guys. Remember me?"

"Didn't you used to have orange hair?" Topher asked. Everyone looked at Sean's hair. It looked like Mickey Mouse shaped spun sugar.

"Long story. How is everyone doing?" He continued to lounge on Norrington's lap as if nothing was strange about it.

"Long story …." Bootstrap couldn't take his eyes of the boy's legs. The purple and green stripes seemed to be dancing before his eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, the rest of the gang walked in. Everyone was fitted and clothed as was proper for the time-period, but nothing could be done for Sean's pink hair. Chelsea was fixed up with a wig and Tony got to keep his red tux jacket.

"Now come the explanations," Bootstrap declared, once everyone was settled.

…

[Air Britain, 2014]

Heather took her seat next to a thin woman about the same height as she and moved to get comfortable. The woman next to her looked her over without disguise. Heather cracked open one eye and returned the favor. The woman had short black hair and large brown eyes. Her skin, though not as dark as some of the Indian women in London, was not pale.

Heather, not one to take a step forward, tried to ignore the woman. She, however, could not ignore the extended hand the woman gave her.

"Hello," she said. "My name's Kami."

"Hi," she answered. "Heather."

"Oh, you're American," Kami noticed, keeping her voice bland and unbiased. Her eyes however were not so kind. Heather knew what with recent events the U.S. and England were not on friendly terms. (Prediction. Let's see what happens in 2014!)

"Yes. I work at the Embassy."

"Oh, Right then. Goodnight."

'_Leave it to the British to be rude_,' Heather thought, knocking her head with feeling against the window and shutting her eyes against the bright lights outside. One seemed to pulse against her eyelids. She opened her eyes to find a light flashing, coming oddly enough from her wrist. She brought up her charm bracelet and found the little locket. It had a bit of the blood inside, but it had never flashed before. It seemed thrilled that she had noticed it and flashed quickly.

"What's that?" Kami asked.

"Nothing special," Heather told her. She smiled in slight mirth. "You believe in magic?"

"Who, me? Nope. Not unless it has to do with men, anyway."

"Well, see you later." Heather gripped her charm bracelet and departed. Kami blinked and shook her head. She began looking under her seat and behind her but no one had seen the vanishing American girl. Not one to panic, Kami hailed one of the stewards.

"Um, excuse me," she began. "What happened to the young American girl who was sitting here?" Perhaps she had just … I don't know … forgotten. Time lapses were not too far out of the question.

"Miss, are you feeling all right? No one was sitting there. There isn't a ticket sold for that spot."

…

God, it's been a long time since I could have a double digit page count. No matter. Review, please. Pretty please with chili cheese! Page count is 47.


	4. Chapter III: Chauvinism on the Sea

Coolest thing ever. I get to give a speech on shipping! How easy is that! Even better, my own glossary is cited as a legitimate source! Fun, fun, fun.

(Of course, in revisited land, that was over two years ago. I actually did the report on piracy. It was 13 minutes long. Just doing my best to prove that I am a pirate, or at least know about pirates. Nothing worse than a person who claims to be something but doesn't know anything about what they're claiming to be *cough* _Ninjas!_ *cough*

**Chapter III –Chauvinism on the Sea**

Heather, not very good at landing, ended up sitting very comfortably on Will Turner's lap. However, Will was still in the depths of depression. He was not extremely surprised, too far lost in his stupor he was. Heather quickly moved off his lap before being attacked by her former cohorts.

"Everybody, calm down or I'll turn ye into bloody turnips," Bootstrap exclaimed. They all sat down quickly, lest they invoke Bootstrap's wrath. Will had not moved from his spot on the couch, still staring listlessly into space. He leaned on one hand, his face twisting slightly from the pressure, a corner of his mouth open.

Heather, not knowing the problem but obviously understanding that something was definitely wrong, looked in question around the room. She noticed a limp Commodore and wondered what _his_ problem was. It had only been a few moments since Kristin and Sean had come crashing into the Turner's residence.

There was a crash from the foyer. Scarlette rose to see what the sound had been and returned carrying a green bottle. Inside was a slip of paper. With her thin fingers, she extracted the paper and unrolled it. "Bastards tossed it through what was left of the window. I guess they just couldn't be happy with the huge hole in the glass! They _had_ to break the rest."

She read the lines quickly, perusing the note, her face slowly falling from curiosity to trepidation. She looked up and locked eyes with Topher.

"It's Robin," she told him bluntly. "Sit down, please."

"What does she say?" he asked, paling. He was already paper white, so paling for him was quite the feat. He slumped into a chair near the unconscious Commodore.

"Not _she_," Scarlette continued. "It's another ransom note. She's been taken. She is alive, but they send more threats."

"What?" Topher exclaimed, shooting to his feet again and pulling out his pistol and rapier simultaneously. He looked quite the combatant as he looked in furious confusion around the crowded room.

"Sit down!" Scarlette commanded again. "I'll read the note and then we can decide what to do."

She gazed at him until he sheathed and holstered his goods, retook his seat and crossed his arms in rage. She licked her lips and began to read.

"_To the man who married this crazy girl;_

_Another woman, another ransom. Christian Topher,_

_your wife Robin is now among my prisoners,_

_though I can't say that it was particularly easy_

_acquiring her. I'll tell you the same thing I told_

_Mr. Turner. I want the _Langue de Serpente _and_

_until you agree to find my treasure, my next steps_

_at attaining your answer might be a bit more … bold._

_Leave an answer with the barmaid at the Green Dragon_

_pub by midnight. Do not try to follow anyone leaving_

_this pub with or without a note. It will not lead you to me._

_Oh, and, to both William and yourself. I suggest_

_you recruit the aid of a certain captain. You're going to_

_need it in the long run. Persuasion shouldn't be a problem._

_Yours truly,_

_Ha! I bet you though I was going to sign my name, eh?_

_Nope. Sorry boys. You'll find out soon enough who I am._

_Farewell._"

"I'm gonna kill him," Topher growled, his hands straining with the effort of not drawing his weapons.

"Is he talking about Jack?" Scarlette wondered. "A certain captain leads me to think no one else. I hope he's not thinking of hurting Jack to get what he wants."

"I wouldn't be worryin' 'bout Jack, Missy," Bootstrap told her, giving her eye contact. Scarlette looked confused for a moment, but her face suddenly flattened out as she realized what he meant.

"You think I'm the next target?" she asked him.

"Well, he wants Will to look, he takes Elizabeth," he began. "He wants Chris over here on the job, well Robin's gone. And now he's let on that he needs Captain Jack Sparrow to find him his big treasure and everyone on the earth knows how reluctant Jack can be, unless presented with a deal he absolutely _can't_ refuse."

"Yes, but does this guy know who he's dealing with?" Heather piped up, always quick to the get. "Scarlette isn't exactly an easy target. She's slightly easier than Jack just based on pure size, but still … anyone who knows anything about her would stay away."

"A point worth noting," Bootstrap nodded. "But I still think she's next on his happy hit parade. Notice he said 'enlist the aid of a certain captain, persuasion shouldn't be a problem.' What do you think that means?"

"Don't worry about me," she told him, stubborn as usual. "Just protect my children and I'll find a way to get this guy out in the open. _I'll _deliver our note tonight."

"Then maybe you should write it," Claudia suggested.

"No," Tony interjected. "I've got a better idea. I deliver the note and Scarlette infiltrates. That way, she can stay hidden. If she delivers the note, whoever picks it up will have time to study her features, won't they? She can follow them afterwards."

Sean shook his head. "How? He already said not to follow him."

"Maybe because he knows it'll be too easy. Plus, he seems to not think much of the women here. Everyone knows Elizabeth and Robin aren't the most agreeable when kidnapped." Tony was smiling as if he'd scored big on a difficult test.

"Yes," Kristin agreed. "But if those two seem difficult, what will he do with Scarlette? We never heard anything from Elizabeth or Robin. It's almost as if they vanished."

"He'll no doubt get another cabin scene," Heather answered. "She'll get away, or get locked in the cabin and the next person to enter gets their head blown off because she'll have armed herself to the teeth."

Scarlette was silent. She looked at Tony. "I liked your idea. I'll write the letter and follow whoever picks it up. The rest of you will have to take cover positions. Wear dark clothing and don't look suspicious … I'm sorry, ladies, but this may be a job for the boys." She looked at the boys in question, Topher and Will distraught over their dearly beloved … Tony in his red tails … and Sean. Sean who couldn't blend in with a troupe of clowns. "Scratch that. Women in men's clothing. It'll do."

Claudia, who had been laughing the entire exchange, finally caught her breath. "It's highly amusing listening to you in your beautiful dress and wonderful hair talking like Bruce Willis on an action film."

"Who's Bruce Willis?" Bootstrap asked.

"Well, I can't be feminine all the time," Scarlette answered, ignoring Bootstrap's question. "You should know that. By the way, are you married yet? Any of you? I mean, I haven't seen you guys in years."

"Not me," Kristin answered. Chelsea nodded in agreement. Heather smiled. She had a boyfriend. Claudia was dating someone back in Vegas. Scarlette shrugged ambiguously. "Just curious. No offense intended."

"Well, duh," Claudia added. "I didn't think that. The only one who ever takes offense to your blunt comments is Robin." Topher gave a choke on the couch and Will just looked at him.

"I want to come tonight," Will and Topher both spoke up. Will looked at Topher and shrugged. Scarlette sighed.

"Neither of you can come. You'll be recognized. Someone wake Norrington up. I need to ask a favor of him."

"Well, get plannin', Lass," Bootstrap muttered. "'Cause he wants that letter in two hours."

"You guys plan, I'll write," Scarlette told them, smiling dangerously. Everyone moved into a flurry of business. Letters to write, Navy officials to splash, a plan to create … it was busy.

…

[2014, Spittlefield, Jamaica]

Kami waited in the not-too crowded airport after finally locating her luggage. She was looking for T.P., her boss' butler. Finally, she spotted his gaunt form waving from a long line of unoccupied phone booths. He looked like a stick bug with enormous glasses.

She trotted over, her sneakers hitting the floor rhythmically, hoisting her small shoulder bag as her luggage was pulled behind her. T.P., though appearing to be feeble, grabbed her luggage and carried it to the waiting limousine.

"This is snazzy," she commented. The chauffer made no remark towards her. T.P. only nodded politely and the chauffer put the limo into drive. Kami watched the palm trees fly by as the limo headed towards Port Royal.

As they neared the town, she craned her neck, trying to get a view of Fort Charles. It was more a tourist attraction than a military base now that Britain was out of the picture but it interested her nonetheless. As her eyes wandered over the stone battlements, images flashed through her head, one after the other as if she were watching a movie. The clear daylight changed to night. She heard a beautiful voice, singing so sweetly. Screams, flashes of light, gunshots! There was someone running nearby, being chased by an equestrian. Kami was breathing hard as she heard the victim stumble.

"_I'm not going anywhere, you bloody cad_!"

"_Are you absolutely certain, wench_?"

"Ma'am, are you all right?"

Kami opened her eyes to find T.P. leaning over her. She was sweating profusely. The limo had stopped in front of a rather large mansion, the driveway paved with cobblestones, a fountain sporting marble cherubs nearby, creating a cascade of sound that seemed deafening to Kami's ears.

"Yeah, fine," she whispered, clenching her fists to her sides. "Just had one of those moments. You know, like when you're about to cast? It must be like, from the plane maybe. Don't worry, old chap. I'm just a bit nauseous." She knew better than to tell them what she had seen. Insanity did not bode well in one's au pair. She swung her feet out of the limo and stood cautiously. Good. She could walk.

"Welcome to the Master's home, Miss. He hopes that you will enjoy the luxuries while you are here. Young Master Justin has been summoned." T.P. led her into a foyer extravagantly decorated with inlaid metals and beautiful tapestries. Kami was busy examining a painted photograph of two women, one of which looked familiar, when there was a shout of glee. She turned to find the young boy, Justin, racing towards her, his arms outstretched.

"You brought her! You brought the Fabby Lady!"

Kami groaned but the kid continued to maul her. Kids and small dogs never seemed to realize that people disliked them.

"Come on, Fabby! Let's go play! Yay! Yay!"

"Someone shoot me."

…

Scarlette sat in the pub, dressed as modestly as possible, and in saying modest, every sense of the word is used. She was wearing her husbands clothing, once again.

If they were indeed after her, it was best that they didn't recognize her as the tail, though the fact that whoever it was might kill her for following did not escape her mind. It would make their lives even easier to have her follow them into their hideaway as opposed to having to kidnap her. She picked a nice corner and pretended to drink her rum as she scanned the crowd. The wide brimmed hat she'd picked hid her face in shadow. Only someone specifically close to her could have spotted her. Except for the book, she looked just like any other citizen.

A few minutes afterwards, Sean entered the building, dressed just as he'd been before, makeup included. He looked around quite nervously and sat at the bar. Any attention that she had drawn to herself vanished as he made his entrance. He ordered something and sat nervously in his orange cocktail dress.

"Um … sir," he addressed the barkeep. "I've got a message for someone. Do you think you could … take it for me?"

"Sure ting, Lad," he growled, wiping his beard and spitting into a glass. "I've been expectin' ya, anyways. Give it over. Here's yer drink." The man looked Sean up and down, smiling. "We don' get much o' yer type down 'ere."

Sean sipped the drink, but couldn't stay for long, wondering exactly what the man had meant by 'his type'. His nerves weren't up to par for this kind of work. He left with everyone's eyes on him.

"That guy … was dressed like a … woman," one of the men commented, his voice decidedly bland, as if he didn't believe what he'd just seen.

"I thought it _was_ a woman," another spoke, looking rather terrified. Scarlette smirked. Sean was worth a terrified stare sometimes.

"Well, bet he don' know I spit in 'is glass," the barkeep announced. Everyone burst into laughter and Scarlette smiled to herself. She turned the page of her book and continued to watch the room.

Not long after Sean's performance, two men entered the pub and marched straight up to the bar, taking seats beside each other. One had the longest dreadlocks Scarlette had ever seen, woven intermittently with beads, mostly yellow and green along with a few reds and blacks. The other, wearing a black vest with blue embroidery seemed to be the superior. They were both dark and gave off an air of hostility to the crowd around them.

The barkeep forced a strained smile and passed over the envelope with her intricate writing pressed into the paper. The dreadlocked one nodded and drained his mug. The other did not drink but put a small silver coin on the sticky surface of the bar.

Scarlette did not wait for them to leave. She went outside and sat on the edge of a well nearby. When the two men exited the bar, she kept a far enough distance.

However, when the smaller man latched onto a lone woman in the street, her objective changed. She broke into a run and hit the smaller man with her shoulder.

"What the hell's goin' down," he muttered as he attempted to pick himself up. The woman was hiding behind her unidentified savior.

"Ha! Dat little man jus' knocked your ass over, Jericho," the other man was laughing so hard he had to hold his stomach for fear of falling over.

"Shut up, Cob," Jericho grunted from the ground. "My pants are too tight. I cannot get up!"

"Let's get out of here," Scarlette whispered to the woman behind her. She nodded quickly and tightened her grip on Scarlette's arm.

They began to run, the woman's dress flapping in their wake.

"No! You can't do dat! Hey!" Cob took off after them as Jericho found the motivation to get off the ground. He knew that if he didn't bring a woman back to the ship that the captain would probably eat him, and Cob.

"Faster!" Scarlette told her. "This way! Hurry!" They turned a corner as Cob shouted something incoherently.

Jericho picked up something from around his neck and blew into it. A long, loud whistle filled the night with a shrill sound.

The woman stopped and looked back at just the right moment for when Scarlette went back to pull her along, two other men jumped directly into the spot they would have occupied. One had waist length, shining black hair and towered over them and the other was pale, with curly brown hair so unruly Scarlette would have called it an afro. The first man had been the one who'd chased Robin and this time, he was more ready for action.

"Shit," Scarlette muttered. She pulled out her sword and grabbed the woman's hand, running towards the two men while swinging.

They got out of her way without too much persistence. There were more of them, however.

"God dammit," Scarlette hissed. "Where the hell are all my people?" The truth of the matter was, everyone sent for lookout and back up had been disabled. The enemy was everywhere.

There weren't many options open anymore. There were men all about, and a few women. Scarlette held her sword in one hand and the other girl's hand in the other.

One of the women, with rippled blond hair gazed over and made a call. "Let over the girl, boy. If you do, maybe we can make some … arrangements." She smiled in what must have been a seductive way and rubbed her hands down her body in a suggestive way.

Scarlette rolled her eyes. '_Well, good job on the disguise. They think you're a man_.' "No dice, tart." she whispered under her breath.

"No, Ruby," the black haired man declared. His accent was Indian or Arab, something Eastern. "Let's see how he can fight. Lord knows with that stature he can't afford to be cowardly." He unsheathed a heavy looking blade from a purple scabbard. "We are birates, boy. Be afraid, buny child." For some reason his 'p's sounded like 'b's.

Scarlette sneered. The man came towards her and swung his long hair around, grinning. The blond woman called out. "I take the winner. And, oh baby, I'm not a fighter. Tee hee."

"Slut," Scarlette snapped, keeping her voice low enough to be considered masculine. The woman gasped indignantly.

He darted towards her and Scarlette moved away from the other woman. She ducked under his blade and lashed out with her foot, hitting him in the shin. He was successful in hitting her with the blade but what he cut was not fatal. He merely made some rips in her clothing.

The shirt hung on her, rips at the shoulders. She lost the hat, showing golden hair, braided to her waist. She used the sword to confuse him and stomped on his foot, hitting him across the face with the heel of her hand and driving a fist into his sternum. He hit the ground none too ceremoniously, coughing up whatever he'd consumed last. He cursed readily in his native tongue and a couple of the women went to help him to his feet.

Another man, one who seemed to wiggle in his shoes came up towards her and she turned quickly enough to catch him right. She performed the trick she'd used on Gillette and sent his body careening. He flew over her head and broke a segment of the circle. As he stood up, he spit a handful of teeth onto the ground. Scarlette grabbed the woman and ran, pulling her along ruthlessly.

"What is up with that little man?" Jericho exclaimed. "You all right, Noodler? Sheikh Abu?"

Sheikh Abu laughed. "I will live, thanks to my women, but that little man will not be so habby next time I meet him."

Noodler just bounced up and shook himself. Jericho took that to mean he was fine. "Well, let's go get him!"

"That is no man," Ruby commented. "That is a woman. We should take them both back to the ship."

"I don't know 'bout dat," Cob answered. "Even if it be a girl, she not be one of dem ladies we need fer blood."

"Jus the same," Ruby grinned. "She'll be taken as well, if you boys can manage it that is."

"What're you saying, eh?" the afro guy asked acidly.

"Nothing, Mullins," she smiled sweetly. "Only that as of yet, you have failed to capture that woman and now you have failed to capture two women, not to mention the third hostage we still haven't caught or even seen."

Mullins snorted at her and clapped his hands. "Hey! Stop staring and get after them!" The few men who'd stayed to see what would happen jumped nervously and ran after their compatriots. Mullins turned and promptly went to help before he lost his temper and strangled the bitch.

…

"Okay, all right, slow down!" the woman was too tired to go on and Scarlette was having difficulty breathing as well.

"Who are you," the woman asked.

"I am Scarlette," she answered. "Scarlette Sparrow."

"No," the woman gasped. "Seriously? I don't believe it! What'll I tell my husband! I was saved by _Scarlette Sparrow_! Even though she was dressed like a boy. He's gonna be so excited!"

"Keep it down," Scarlette told her, lowering her voice. "I kind of don't want people to know who I am."

Scarlette, rather than running through the town, knowing their pursuit would be likely to catch up, ran straight for the Northern part of Port Royal. Before long, they were immersed in darkness, under the trees. It was pretty much a jungle through here. If one pressed onwards, they would reach the place where _the Pearl _usually docked. No one was near enough to hear but Scarlette still felt uneasy.

"My name's Shelly," the woman told her as they stood under the lush greenery. They continued to walk for a bit. Scarlette was waiting until she was sure they had a clean break for the Turner house. The darkness was almost complete, but the light from the sky, be it the moon or the stars, reflected off the greenery in silvery slivers.

Scarlette stopped suddenly. Shelly continued a few more steps and turned around to face her. "What's wrong?"

"Quiet," Scarlette whispered. She could feel something in the trees. Something was watching them. It was the first time Scarlette had noticed any power involved in the chase and it was strange. She didn't have a name for what she was feeling, but she knew something was not right.

She was staring at the darkness under the trees and fronds around them so intently that everything seemed to blur together. Shelly gave a squeal as she was pulled into the branches of a tree. Scarlette whirled about, searching the dark surroundings for a target. She finally saw them, but … that couldn't possibly be right. There weren't any of _those _left.

"Isla de Muerta!" she exclaimed. There were several corpses staring at her. They started towards her, shambling like zombies. Scarlette turned around and sped off in the other direction, not catching any sight of Shelly.

"Shit! Not again!" she ran through the foliage, dodging the biggest obstacles but running through the bushes and such. She dared a glance behind and realized that they weren't keeping up with her. They weren't running at all. The corpses merely watched her from a distance, their dead eyes holding no intelligence, only hunger.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked the thick air around her. These weren't cursed pirates, out for revenge. They were actually … dead. The slow moving zombies held her attention as she marveled at their presence. She gasped when she heard the hoof beats coming towards her.

…

[2014]

"Finally! The little punk is asleep!" Kami flopped down on a soft chair on the third floor. She wiped her brow and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she spotted a thin string hanging from the ceiling.

Sitting up quickly, she reached up to pull it.

"Miss Kami!" a voice called from downstairs. "The Master is on the phone. He would like to speak to you."

Kami looked at the door and back to the string. "I guess I'll find out later." She hurried down the stairs to speak to her employer.

…

[1769]

Scarlette began running again, though she knew staying put might have been a better idea. All her movement through the flora and fauna was making it easy for her pursuer. She forced herself to slow down and creep through the greenery, cutting her sound in half.

She stopped and ducked down under a leaning palm tree blown to bow by the wind. With her palms flat to the dirt, she watched. The pounding beats of the horse's hooves became louder as it progressively drew closer. Suddenly, without warning, they stopped.

Scarlette could hear her own heart, touching her rib caged with each palpitation. She tried to hold her breath but realized in doing so, she endangered her conscious status. Adrenaline made it difficult to breathe quietly but she calmed enough to take in slow, silent breaths, pressing a point between her eyebrows to composed herself further.

Unexpectedly, she heard it, the slow, methodic stirring of dirt by the large hooves of a tired stallion. Scarlette could see the silhouette of the animal's head as it lifted and snorted. She watched it walk around, sans rider.

Relieved, she came out from under the palm, brushed her legs off, and moved towards the animal. She clicked with her tongue and the animal perked up. It came towards her, into the light of the moon. It rubbed its velvet muzzle against her hand and poked her in the shoulder as she looked at its back.

"Harnessed?" she wondered. There were leather reigns and an intricate saddle on its magnificent back. The muscles rippled under the dark brown fur. She slid a hand along its beautiful hide and something clicked in her mind. A fully saddled horse, bit and all, does not just run through the jungle.

"How silly of you," he said from the shadows. "You'd trust a mere animal. They're just as ruthless as humans you know." The horse gave a slight squeal and backed up. She gripped the leather and kept it against her side.

Scarlette turned and fixed her eyes upon the shadow. His voice was deep, though not a growl. It resonated but did not fill the clearing. The horse moved toward the shadow and she let it go.

"Who are you and what do you request of me?" she asked him, letting her voice deepen. He laughed a bit and shook his head.

"You aren't fooling me, dear," he told her. "I know who and what you are."

"Answer my question, sir," she told him bluntly. This was most peculiar and she was glad she was still armed.

"Funny that my name escapes you." She narrowed her eyes at the dark figure. Why should it be funny?

"Nick? Are you still alive?" she tightened her grip on the sword at her hip. Nick had tried his best to kill her.

"I am not this person. I know not why everyone assumes that I am."

"Then you are not my brother."

"I certainly hope not, Sparrow."

Scarlette was tiring of the conversation. She had steadily been retreating into the trees. The man stood from his position and she bolted, fearing he would attempt at catching her.

Her scream, though not characteristic to her person, rang true, cutting through the jungle, finding its way through the air and hitting a certain pair of ears.

The sight she met when she made her about face was not what she had expected to say the least. Three corpses, nearly rotted to the core, stood like husked sentries. One reached out to grab her arm, moving considerably faster than the last batch she'd spotted. She hissed and swatted at it, backpedaling furiously.

Quickly, she became trapped, for the shadowed speaker pinned her quite effortlessly to his chest. This position did not last long, however. She thrashed about so rambunctiously that he was forced to release her. He let her go and she whirled around in a rage, her sword clearing the leather. With one wild look to the corpses, she took off, flying through the trees as if her very life depended on escape, in which case, she may have been correct.

The beating of hooves once again alerted her to pursuit. She stopped and crouched down, gripping her blade tightly. She let all her breath go one in one, calming exhale and focused on the sounds.

She jumped up from the bushes to hit the rider and was blown over by the wind. There was no rider or horse. She had been run through by a ghostly apparition. The flowing power of the chill wind still whipped about and Scarlette realized that she had lost her weapon. She ducked, close to the ground, shielding from this cold wind that had nothing to do with the Caribbean weather. Her small hands searched the scissor-like grass about her for the sword to no avail. Another gust of wind knocked her over and she went sprawling over the ground, blinded by the darkness.

Hoof beats sounded again as the real horse stepped up to where she was lying. She attempted to stand but the wind had stolen her energy and given it to the night. The rider dismounted and knelt before her, smiling smugly.

"Oh, Scarlette," he laughed. "So brave. Too bad it's a wasted effort."

"Screw you," she spat, forcing herself to her feet. He allowed her to stand and begin to stumble off. He sighed, got back on his horse and started after her at a canter.

She looked back and scowled at him. Attempting to escape, though they both knew she wasn't fooling anyone, she picked up her pace, finally collapsing over a bent palm. She managed to clamber over it before falling completely to the ground.

The rider dismounted again and stepped over the tree to kneel beside her once again. She opened her eyes and glared up at him.

"I'm not going anywhere, you bloody cad," she told him bluntly, mostly in denial. There was no stopping him now.

"Are you absolutely certain, wench?" he asked her. He grabbed her hands before she had a chance to fight and pulled her up in one fluid motion, not stopping the momentum and moving her to his shoulder.

She fought feebly and when she realized that she may not get away from this man, she let out a scream that could have woken the dead had she been given the opportunity. He dropped her quite suddenly and she gasped, unable to draw breath. He placed a hand on her forehead and locked eyes with her.

"You will not win this time, woman," he breathed in deeply and simultaneously, Scarlette felt as if she were loosing breath. She began to see colors superimposed over the darkness. Not a few seconds had passed before she fell unconscious.

…

Jack sat up quickly enough to make a bird that had been roosting in his barred window spook and flee. Her scream tapered off and he stood up.

"Norrington!" he shouted. "Get down here, now!"

The commodore however was not in the vicinity.

Jack began pacing in anger and frustration. Somewhere in Port Royal, Scarlette was in trouble. She didn't scream like that for spiders.

An officer appeared. "Is something the matter, sir?"

Jack stopped and gave him The Look. "Did you just hear that scream?"

"Ah, yes sir. I did."

"That woman is in danger and I want her out of it, understand?"

"You're in a snit because some woman is being mugged?"

"No, you barnacle born snot head! That was Scarlette! If she gets into trouble and doesn't come back, I'm going after you as soon as I can, savvy?"

The officer gulped and nodded quickly. Not ten minutes later, Jack heard the sounds of the KR on the street below. In his worry, the irony that the Company riders were being sent out to rescue a pirate didn't even make him smile.

He hopped up to perch at the window, gripping the bars tightly. He could just see what they were doing. Moving around leisurely, the men seemed to not be in any sort of hurry. Jack shouted down at them.

"Get a move on! A woman is in bloody danger and you're not doing a thing about it! Cowards, the lot of you!"

The riders left the vicinity of Jack's window in remarkable speed.

…

[2014 AD]

Kami, finally getting the chance to revisit the room, glanced up at the string in remote interest. She had returned with an industrial sized can of bug spray lest there be any spiders, roaches or, dare I say it … earwigs. Those she hated the most.

She pulled a dusty chair up to the area and climbed upon it, reaching carefully for the twined cord. She gave a few abrupt yanks on it and the trap swung open, raining dust particles down on her.

She sneezed violently and had to jump down from the chair before waving away the dust. Looking back up, she noticed a thin set of ladder rungs leading up into the attic's musty interior.

"Well," she sighed, rubbing her bare arms. "Here goes nothing."

…

It was dawn in Port Royal and the Turner estate was in complete pandemonium. Bootstrap had locked himself in his room, the future girls were pacing, crying, or refusing to get out of bed, Sean and Tony were missing, Will was sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at a coat of arms above the mantle and Scarlette had yet to return.

"She's been taken," Chelsea was ranting. Claudia was following this girl at close quarters, attempting to calm her down.

"Now, maybe she just went to the jail to visit Jack," Claudia attempted.

"All night?" Heather remarked.

Claudia laughed. "Well … you know them …"

"That's more than I wanted to think about," Heather muttered.

"No! She's gone!" Chelsea exclaimed, spinning around and gesticulating wildly.

Heather was sitting on the edge of Kristin's bed with her head in her hands, muttering repeatedly, "This can't be good. Something's wrong. Everybody's disappearing."

"You know," a surly voice piped up. "I really wonder if anyone realized we were missing at all." Tony and Sean walked into the crowded room and sat down on either side of Heather, who continued to murmur.

"Where have you two been?" Kristin asked angrily, wiping a tear from one of her eyes.

"Finding shit out, that's where," Sean exclaimed. "Scarlette was chased into the jungle last night. There were a few screams and then the weird shit started happening."

"Yeah," Tony added. "There was this strange … vision thing. Kind of like a hologram from Star Wars. It was a horse and rider that ran over the trees."

"It disappeared and then, we ran," Sean finished rather quickly.

"No," Tony contradicted. "It disappeared, and two dead guys came out of the trees. You screamed like a little girl, and _THEN _you ran."

"Yeah, well," Sean retorted. "You passed out cold and wet yourself and that's why we didn't come back last night. I had to drag Mr. Soggy Bottoms about a half a mile."

"Well, what about Ryo?" Claudia demanded. "Did she escape?"

Sean shook his head. "No such luck. We saw a real rider take off towards the shore. I can't really be sure due to the dark but it looked like there were two people on that horse."

"Not to say she was willing," Tony added. "There are only two ways she could have been carried off. One, if she was indeed willing, which we know isn't likely, and two, if she was unconscious, which seems the more plausible event."

"What the hell is going on?" Chelsea exploded. "Everybody is disappearing for this stupid treasure. Now they're going to get Jack on the deal as well and all hell is about to break loose!"

"Maybe," Kristin answered. "Or maybe something unexpected will happen."

"Unexpected?" Claudia shouted. "How can you get more unexpected than three of your friends getting kidnapped consecutively?"

"Well, put it this way," Tony added. "Nothing's exploded yet."

A large sound, consisting of splintering wood, flying debris and everything else characteristic of an explosion reached their ears.

…

[The night before]

He pushed his horse to move quickly and the animal flew over the dusty road. The corpses vanished beneath the ground as he fled and Scarlette, nestled unknowingly in front of the rider, stayed unconscious.

The hooves beat upon the wooden pier as he kicked the horse into gear so to speak. The animal reached the end of the line and jumped off the wooden runway into seemingly nothing but air and water. It landed however, quite squarely on the deck of a ship.

The man dismounted, pulling Scarlette with him, her tattered men's clothes hanging unflatteringly from her limp body. He lifted her as if she were a child and started for the stairs to the below decks when something blotted out the moonlight. He looked up to see the rippling black sails of _The Black Pearl_.

"Calm yourselves, men," he shouted to his panicking crew. "They're just docking. They do not know." He handed Scarlette to the nearest crewmember, Cob, and stepped up to the gunwales.

"Look closely, men," he told them. "We'll be seein' quite a bit of her if all goes according to plan."

Unbeknownst to him, Scarlette had just opened her eyes. Cob was not paying attention to her other than to hold her. She gave a faint little smile and looked around carefully. _The Pearl _was not even twenty feet away.

She launched her legs over his shoulder, using her arms around his neck as a lever. Her body followed and she kicked his legs out from under him once she was behind her guard.

It did not take long for her to sprint to the edge and poise for a dive. As she launched herself from the deck in a mirror of Jack's famous swan dive, a lone rope, acting virtually on its own power, wrapped around her midsection and dropped her back to the deck with a painfully abrupt sound. She lay on her back for a moment, soaking in the pain.

Her captor, who had by then been standing very close, reached down and pulled her up, very nonchalantly. She gave him a look, and moved to try it again. He yanked her against him and she twisted out of his grasp once more.

When he had caught her for the third time, she shouted out to _the Pearl_. "Anamaria! Gibbs! Cotton! Help! Someone get me off this ship!"

The man behind her laughed. "They can't hear you. Time to go below, Sparrow."

"No," she exclaimed. "I'm not going anywhere you want me to."

"Oh, I think you will," he told her, placing a hand on her shoulder and turning her towards him. One palm went to her forehead. He breathed in and she blacked out again.

…

She awoke to see her captor's hand coming away from her face. They were below decks and she could feel several other people in the room.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked him bluntly. She sat up and he moved to sit on a crate. Only then did she notice who was actually in the room.

Robin and Elizabeth sat as far away from the man as possible while Shelly reached out towards Scarlette. Her attention was drawn to the man when he cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, Sparrow. You are basically insurance."

"Insurance, huh? Well, sir. I assure you, had you contacted my husband, you two may have been able to work something out. I, on the other hand, would have told you to fuck off and find your own damn treasure."

He laughed at her. "I knew you were bold Sparrow but I never imagined you to use such language. Such is not fit for a woman."

"I am not just any woman, sir. You will do well to remember that."

"Ah yes. You are but a wench."

Scarlette blinked. "Excuse me?"

"That's right. You cannot lie about it. Just a serving wench to one notorious Captain Sparrow."

A dull thud followed his words as Scarlette buried her fist in his eye. After he had recovered, she addressed him rather calmly.

"Think what you will. I do not serve him, but if I did it would be only to him, do you understand? And if I am to be held captive, I will demand a bit more respect for my friends and me."

"And what exactly do you mean," he asked, holding a hand to his face and crooning over his injury.

"If you're going to keep us down here, at least give us some proper bedding."

"Ah, Sparrow. If one desires proper bedding, there is only one place on this ship that merits such, and that comes with certain … requirements."

"Well then, sir. No bedding needed. But at least make it a bit more hospitable."

"Unless I am persuaded to do so, nothing will come about. I have no reason to make my prisoners comfortable."

"I could always hit you again," Scarlette muttered. "Is that persuasion enough?"

"Asshole," Robin snorted. The man looked slightly offended but refused to answer.

"Trust me, sir. I can make it so you'll rather us be comfortable," Scarlette told him.

"See; nothing but a wench. Bribes are useless."

"That wasn't a bribe, you moron. It was a _threat_. Leave it to men to think we're propositioning them when really all we want to do is put a bullet through their rarely utilized brain."

The man frowned and leaned forward. "Are you mocking me, Sparrow?"

"No, not really. Well, maybe, but only because you kidnapped me."

"And you're not frightened?"

"Not anymore. In a way, I'm sort of flattered. I haven't been kidnapped in over ten years."

"Now you _are _mocking me."

"You betcha."

"Hey!" Cob exclaimed. "We're getting an outline!"

"All right," the man grunted. "Send someone down here." Cob and Jericho came down the steps and looked to him for orders. He pointed at Shelly and they moved to grab her. She was hauled to her feet and halfway to the stairs before Scarlette piped up.

"What are you doing with her?"

"You see, wench," he explained. "The reason I am infallible is because my ship is invisible, or at least has the ability of becoming so. In order to keep it at such, I need fresh blood from a female every few days."

"Oh, hell no," Scarlette told him. "You will not use her. Don't even try it." She ran over and in the midst of their confusion, she dragged Shelly back to her side of the room. "Not on my watch, buddy." Their confusion, if anyone was wondering, came from a woman acting so unafraid in their captain's presence.

"What is she talking about?" asked Jericho. "Morgan? She's insane."

He sighed. "No, she's perfectly sane. And righteously annoying. Take her instead."

The two men gave a glance at their boss. "Uh … sir? That's not exactly safe."

"For who? Just do it."

"Are you kiddin', mon? Dat one woke up already! Not human."

"She's human. She's just got ties to the dead," Morgan glanced at her. "That's why she'll be easier to use for this. We won't even have to kill her."

Jericho shrugged. "She's fast, I favor my coconuts. _You_ grab her."

"My, my," Scarlette said sarcastically. "And there's no danger of mutiny here, eh? Apparently Captain Morgan doesn't have much control." She immediately started laughing as she stood and put a foot up on the crate. "Captain Morgan! Hah!" Her laughing fit was uncontrollable. Robin giggled as well while everyone stared in confusion.

The two crew members stood, rooted to the spot in horror. She wasn't at all afraid of any of them and seemed to think their captain was hilarious in his inability. They would never have laughed.

Morgan stood with a sigh and moved to stand before her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and she continued to giggle. He cleared his throat and she looked up at him, her face amused.

"May I help you, Captain Morgan?" she snorted and attempted to curb her laughter.

"See," he told his crew. "Nothing to fear. She's quite harmless."

"That's what you think," she told him, most seriously. "Had I a weapon, you would not be anywhere as close as you are now."

"Ah," he smiled. "And what do you make of this, hmmm?" he placed a hand on Shelly's forehead and the girl's eyes rolled back. She toppled to the floor, unconscious. "She'll be that way for at least two hours. You, on the other hand, will not stay in that state for more than a minute unless still in contact with my powers. This means you have either killed several people, been severed from everyone in your bloodline by death, or have come almost to the point of death, yourself."

Scarlette raised her hand as if in school. "Is there an all of the above category?" Cob fell down at this statement.

Scarlette smiled. "My mother was killed when I was seven. My brother was killed after Jack and I had escaped from London and my father died two years ago. I killed a number of Barbossa's men while he was still alive and I have almost died twice before. Once by blade and once by gunshot."

Morgan smiled slightly and Jericho laughed. "She's going to give you hell, man."

"I know it," he growled. "Take her to the figurehead."

"Like I said before, mon," Cob struggled, pulling himself to his feet. "We not be touchin' dat girl."

Morgan sighed. "And you call yourselves men."

"Well, yeah," Jericho agreed. "And we want to _continue_ to call ourselves men. Grabbing her, we can't guarantee that."

Morgan smiled and Scarlette gave a short laugh. It was fun evoking terror in grown pirate men. It was not fun however, when Morgan tossed her over his shoulder and left the room, taking her up the stairs and out into the night.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Please do not speak of my mother that way. She was not so kind, but I do owe her my existence."

"Lamentably so, I dare say," Scarlette cracked. Jericho snorted but covered his mouth to hide his mirth. "Put me down."

"Sorry. You'll just run off again."

"I will not hesitate to hurt you, sir."

"Pain is but a material feeling."

He carried her towards the bow of the ship and finally set her loose, save for his grip on one wrist.

"Normally, one would have to die to feed this ship but I will show you what we mean by 'outline'." He grabbed onto the bowsprit with his left hand and swung her out over the edge. Three ropes from the lattice rigging flew out of their own accord and wrapped around her waist, holding her far from the ship. She grasped these, her knuckles whitening. The ship was alive.

"Look at the ship," he told her. She could barely hear his voice but look she did. She could not see much of it but there was a discernable shape, not lending itself much to an opaque image. There were few lines of color and hardly any luster but the water and surroundings definitely wavered. She nodded and called out. "I see it." The ropes yanked her back abruptly and Morgan caught her roughly before she could run off again.

"Now, we feed it."

"Feed it?" She frowned and her eyebrows showed her discomfort as well. "Define 'feed it'."

"Oh, come now, wench. Don't tell me the notorious Mrs. Sparrow, one who helped defeat the vampire pirate Barbossa amongst other things is afraid? Given that you've three different ties to the dead, a death is not needed to fulfill this monster's appetite."

"If I feed it, will you allow my friends and I free reign on the ship with your protection from the crew as well?"

"My, you are specific. Yes, I suppose that's a fair bargain."

"Deal?" she thrust out her tiny hand and he glanced at it. Looking up into her face, he grasped her small hand in his pale one. "Aye."

He lowered a small swing seat and climbed out onto it, gesturing for her to follow. She gave him a look that said she'd rather watch. There was not enough room on that bench for two people.

"Oh, be not a squeamish one," he told her. "It's not I you need to fear."

"Ahoy!" came a shout from land. "What be there? Man, look at this!"

Morgan sighed. "They can see us now. Hurry, wench, or safe roam for anyone is not a guarantee."

Scarlette smiled. "If I let them see the ship, we'll be rescued."

"Oh, I think not," he told her, clenching a fist. The ropes twined again and seized her, lifting her off the deck. He pulled her roughly from the ropes to his knee.

"How do you do that?" she asked.

"That, small one, would be telling," he answered, pulling out a knife. His balance was good for he was perched on the thin plank of the swing, holding her around the waist, digging around for his knife and managing to keep from crashing into the bow. He bared her left hand and sliced across the palm, quickly and without hesitation. He pointed to the figurehead.

It was not, as normal figureheads went, very hopeful. It was but a skeleton with great hollow sockets for eyes. It reached with its spindly arms outwards, a lantern dangling from its fingers. It was nothing like the woman and her bird that graced _the Pearl_'s bow.

He pointed to the face of the skull. "Smear it across the mouth. Quickly."

By quickly she assumed he meant the fact that the image of the ship was growing stronger by the minute and in a way, he was. But that was not the only reason she needed to be expedient.

She pressed her small palm across the grin of the skull, noticing that it sported a pair of fangs. She was moving her hand along the bleached denticles, feeling the sting of the salt residue left there by the sea, when she suddenly felt them move beneath her hand. The eye sockets glowed red and she yanked her hand back with a shout of surprise. It glared at her with a devilish fury and gnashed its teeth.

"Holy shit!" she exclaimed, almost falling from the swing. Had Morgan not tightened his grip on her small waist, she'd have fallen to the Caribbean. As it was, the skull was growling audibly, smoke rising from between its canines.

"What is that thing?" she whispered in fear.

"It is not to be mentioned here," he told her. He gripped another rope and pulled on it, raising the swing until Scarlette could jump to the edge of the deck. She hoisted herself over the edge and he followed shortly after.

She hesitated near the edge, attempting a glance over. He grabbed her roughly and pulled her after him.

"What was that?" she demanded. "What the hell have you done?" He ignored her, his dark coat billowing behind him, a lock of dark brown hair trailing in the wind under his foppish hat. The trim on his coat was almost silver in the moonlight and his pale skin seemed to glow, framed by all the darkness of his clothing and hair. He turned to face her and his eyes all but gleamed. His hair was mid back length, and styled more like a woman's, long and slightly curled.

"This ship is alive." Scarlette spoke again. "Why?"

"That is my business and this is my ship. It needs to feed or it becomes visible." He turned and walked to the gunwales, still dragging her along.

"Why is it like that? And how the hell are you controlling the ship?" Scarlette, rather than trying to get away was following with curiosity.

He sighed and stopped walking. He leaned against the foremast and put a hand against the wood. "Every fiber of this ship in its construction was touched by the dead. Those ropes? Twined from the hair of nearby corpses. Those sails? They aren't black. That is the deepest of reds, blood on black material. You will find that a majority of the latches and handles on this ship are made of bone. This wood that you stand on is stained black by the blood of thousands, all of which died to paint it. That underlying scent you smell? That is the aftertaste of death itself." As he spoke, he had been drawing slowly closer. Simultaneously, she had backed up gradually in attempt to keep the distance between them. She bumped into the gunwale and glanced back to judge how far down she might have fallen. She turned back and he slammed his hands down on either side of her.

"I control every bit of this ship because it is of the dead, but only because it allows me to. I cater to its hunger and I can take on any other ship in the world, be it galleon or hoy. Or even _The Black Pearl_. So much for _Captain _Jack Sparrow."

"In mentioning him you may as well be speaking of me," she growled.

"Except for one fact," he said smugly. "You are trapped here with me and will remain so."

"Until?"

He laughed and pulled away from her, walking towards the cabin. "Until the day I am defeated, or until I decided to let you go."

She glared at his retreating form and started for the hatch.

"Oh, and Scarlette," he informed her from the stairs. "Save your energy. Any escape attempt by you or your friends will be thwarted by my men or the ship."

"More likely by the ship," she snapped. "Since your men seemed to be terrified of me."

He smiled and shrugged. "One other thing. You might want to steer clear of Ruby."

"Who?"

"The blonde that you called a slut. She asked me to kill you as soon as I brought you aboard. She seems to think you're a threat to her position."

"Is she dangerous?"

"To most people. Her mother was a siren. She has a hypnotic voice except for to those few, like yourself, that have some of the same characteristics for feeding the ship without a death. Her voice is nothing to me but an occasional accompaniment."

"Her voice is like that of a dying cat," one of the crewmembers shouted from below decks.

"Good one, Mullins," another voice added.

"Excuse me?" a very female voice interrupted. Ruby emerged from the cabin and Morgan jumped.

"What were you doing in there?" he asked.

"Waiting for you," she purred, making him frown. "And my voice;" she stated with a blatant look at Scarlette before stomping on the hatch's grate. "Is not a dying cat's." With that, she took up a powerful song. This girl was very soprano but Scarlette was not impressed.

"You've got a real vibrato problem," she told the wannabe diva. "And heaven forbid you ever try to sing anything in close range of middle C. You probably can't even get below a G on the staff. Not a very good range. People get sick of hearing all that squeaky high stuff."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said snobbily. "And even if you are criticizing my _wonderful _singing, I doubt _you_ know anything."

Scarlette smiled. "You just keep thinkin' that, luv."

Ruby gave her a look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm not in the mood to cater to your ill advanced ego or to break it, unless you absolutely force me to."

The crew began to filter out onto the deck, along with the three other prisoners. Elizabeth and Robin looked at Scarlette with small smiles on their faces.

"What she's trying to say," Mullins cut in with obvious loathing towards Ruby. "Is that she does not want to compete with you."

"Oh, but she must," a different woman declared. She was taller than Scarlette and more solid with her blonde hair tied back with a dark bandana. "Someone female should stand up to her vocally. I've had enough of Jericho, Mullins, Cob, Sheikh Abu, and all the other men on board who think they can sing. Not to mention the harem …." She showed her disgust visibly, sticking her tongue out and screwing up her face. Sheikh Abu had his house of women on board with him and most were as stupid as they were beautiful.

"Oh," Robin laughed. "Yay, Ryoko. A contest! This should be funny."

"I don't want to," Scarlette muttered gruffly.

"Listen to that voice," Ruby snorted. "That one does not sing."

"That seems to be the general consensus," Elizabeth agreed. "But you've only heard her speaking, and angry."

Scarlette was glaring at Ruby and every one was surprised when she did begin to sing. No one but Robin knew the song however. It was from a well known musical, but this was the 18th century.

No matter, the men were staring at her as she transitioned into a different octave, one more familiar to Ruby's. Though, the surprise was not where she ended up, in the regions of soprano, but of where she'd begun. It had been a two octave jump.

As she continued through the music, she settled on a middle range between both ranges, her voice not only equipped with bravado enough to shut up Ruby, but a controlled vibrato as opposed to the other woman's frantic shivers.

Scarlette finished and the men swallowed and applauded. Apparently, not many of them liked Ruby. Speaking of which, the blonde was smiling at Scarlette, but there was no warmth to it. It was a sign of rivalry to come.

…

[Present time in 1769]

Tony, Sean, Chelsea, Kristin, Claudia, the Turners and Topher ran outside to see what had happened. Apparently, there was a cannon fight going on in the harbor.

Will, Bootstrap, and Topher took off for the stables. A few seconds later, they emerged on horses only to vanish down the road. The future kids were left to wonder or run. They took off without a thought.

…

Scarlette fell to the water and climbed into the cannon slot of _the Pearl_. Elizabeth, Robin, and Shelly had all been grabbed by the ropes but there weren't enough on that side of the ship to catch all four of them.

"Okay, what needs to happen," she'd explained to the three of them a few moments before. "Is you all need to jump at the same time. Trust me, you won't fall. I promise. I will, but I'm supposed to fall. That's the point. You'll see what I mean."

And so they had. The three women had vaulted from the ship within milliseconds of each other and all had been snagged by at most, two ropes. Shelly only got one because there weren't enough to give her two. By the time they had been set on the deck, Scarlette had hit the water below.

Morgan opened his door as if on instinct and looked over, catching sight of Scarlette's disappearing feet.

"To the guns!" he shouted. "Cob, man the helm, get her turned to starboard. _The Pearl _is at our stern."

"No wind, Cap'n," Cob shouted, gripping the helm, which was bleached a curious white color.

"Obesity and bunions!" Morgan hissed.

…

[2014]

Kami emerged into a dark interior of an old attic. There wasn't much to catch the eye. A few old cardboard boxes, a broken cane, and an old rusted chest. That looked pretty interesting.

She crawled over towards it and pulled it to the center of the floor, kicking up dust in its wake. She waved it off and attempted to hold her breath. It wasn't good to take in large breaths of air when trying to avoid dust. She coughed harshly and blinked away tears and eventually the dust settled.

She looked at the rusted latch on the chest. There was a small lock but the metal was so eaten that she could twist the feeble lock off with her bare hands. She opened the chest carefully, sifting carefully through its contents. There was a scrap of old fabric that looked as if it had once been red. Several odd beads littered the box along with quite a collection of Chinese coins and a long, thin bone with a threaded hole at one end. There were a total of three books, one leather bound, one of fabric and string binding and the last, just pages, tied together with a thong of leather. On to the most interesting contents.

A small black box with a white design on the lid caught her eye. She pulled it out and opened it.

"A compass?" she wondered. She fiddled with it for a few minutes. "It's broken. I know that Fort Charles is south. This says its north east." She continued to rifle through the box. Her hand froze when she found the pistol. She pulled it out in a hurry once she'd figured out what it was.

"This is over 200 years old! Fuck." She began to examine it. "I could totally sell some of this stuff in my shop. God, that's real silver in the handle." She slipped the pistol into a small leather sack she'd found in the box as well.

"Ooh!" she exclaimed, pulling out a chain that held several things. It appeared to be a necklace, with a large emerald handing from the gold. There were a total of three rings on the chain as well, and an ornate silver cross. The rings were each set in gold, one just a band, another bearing a black stone, and the last had the face of a skull forged into the gold. Its eyes shone red, even in the semi darkness.

"Cool," she commented, switching her attention to the necklace. It was beautiful in the dusk light of the attic but would be gorgeous in real light.

"It looks like an emerald," she whispered to herself. She set it down and shoveled some of the other stuff into her bag. The master of the house wouldn't miss it. Most likely, it wasn't his stuff anyway.

She began to climb down the ladder but realized she'd forgotten the necklace. She reached out for it and the second her fingers touched the gold, she heard a voice echoing about the room.

"_Jack! Look out_!"

She jerked back and thought about it. In the end, her need to see the emerald in real light won over her fear of leftover voices.

She hooked the chain and grasped its pendant tightly in her hand and climbed further down the ladder only to land on what she thought was the floor.

Until she looked around in wonder at a sandy beach amidst cannon fire, shouts, and rain, despite the brilliant sunlight. Someone hit her hard and flew over her to lie in the sand a few feet away. In her surprise, she dropped the emerald into a tide pool at her feet.

…

Fun, fun. Whatever. Review! Do it! Please? So, my latest endeavor in the theater world is Charlotte's Web. I'm playing Templeton, everybody's favorite rodent. Funny, reading the script. This is one character who's very Jack Sparrow. I'm not sure how the show's going to go. The director was just in the hospital for something. We'll see. Cheers.


	5. Chapter IV: Dare or Death

Bonjour! Comment allez-vous? Never mind. Not much happening except Keith Richards as a possible cast member for the second PotC. Cool. We get BOTH Sparrow men. Yay! Speaking of which, I found out that my Indian name, and I kid you not, is actually Broken Sparrow. Kick ass. My name has been Sparrow this whole time and I didn't even know it. Neat, huh. Anyways, more random quotes. Try and guess which ones these come from.

"Bulbous ass, the Poof has poofed." (inside joke)

"I am NOT stoned. Look! I didn't draw little pictures on my final." (Oh, he was stoned all right. He looked like he'd been swimming in a highly chlorinated pool. Not to mention he was wandering down the hallway, looking for the bathroom.)

"I can't sleep to this soundtrack!" (in reference to my PotC CD)

"I hate dirty females." (I bet she despises herself.)

"Send me pictures, dammit, or I'll send my fluffy kitty to steal your brain!" (as if that cat could do anything to me. Clawless little baby.)

"Monkeys! Socks!" (Said while reading chapter 13 of the first fic.)

And that's all for today. Answers at the bottom of this chapter.

**Chapter IV—Death or Dare**

Scarlette raced up the wooden steps of _the Pearl's_ lower deckand emerged with a flourish from the hatch. "Cannons! Now! Gibbs, Anamaria! There is a ship next to us, you cannot see it, do not look. Trust me, it's there. Fire low, near the bottom. It's Morgan Maxwell and he'll kill you all if you don't act now."

No one moved for a few seconds. Scarlette grabbed a pistol from one of the staring crewmembers, cocked it and fired at the empty dock space on the port side of _the_ _Pearl_. There was a crack and wood splintered and fell into the sea out of seemingly nowhere. The men moved after that.

Cannons began to rip through the air, but something strange was happening.

…

Morgan was having quite a bit of trouble. The ship was still under command, but he'd never had to stop cannon balls before. The ropes weren't doing too well, although none had snapped yet. He was forced to fling the cannonballs outwards. Some hit the water and some hit the ship but most of them went into the town.

…

The wall imploded with a very loud noise that was somewhere between a bang and a crunch. The noise was utterly deafening as the stones came crashing down around his ears. Jack was shouting as loud as he could manage but under the maelstrom of rocks, he might have well been silent.

A 24 pound cannonball had ripped through not only the wall of the jail but the supports, bringing the entire section of the establishment housing him down around him. When the brimstone and hail ceased, he climbed out of the debris and looked at the damage.

Glancing around cautiously, Jack heard the shouts of the Navy and decided to ditch the jail before he was caught. Again. He fished his accoutrements out of the rubble and took off for the shore.

…

Scarlette was on the pier and running full out. She was going to the jail, knowing full well the Commodore's attention would be on the cannon fire. All she had to do was grab the keys from the wall and break Jack out.

Morgan spotted her from his position and shouted for Cob to take the ship out to sea for a few hours. He'd be back when they arrived. Taking off his lovely hat and his coat, he was left in a deep violet blouse under a red vest. He took a deep breath and dove into the Caribbean, almost reaching the beauty of Sparrow's swan dive, but not quite. The Sparrows never executed a belly flop at the end of their dive. Unless covered in arachnids, that is.

Pulling himself out of the water at the end of the pier, he watched her fly by without so much as a glance back. He immediately took off after her, gaining quickly. He _was _over six feet tall, after all.

Several things happened in rapid succession. Jack and Scarlette met each other on the edge of the beach and amidst their own surprise, began to run back towards _the Pearl_. As they were passing a small tide pool, a strange girl appeared. Jack tripped over her and flew head over heels across the sand, skidding to a stop a few feet away. The girl's mouth opened in shock and she dropped something into the pool.

Scarlette glanced from the new girl to Jack. She shouted something and the new girl looked to her in complete shock. "Jack! Look out!"

Jack turned to face a shadow that had come to join them. Morgan Maxwell, draped in black from head to toe, save for his rather foppish top, wearing a less than enraged expression, pointed a cutlass at the fallen Sparrow.

"Scarlette, come here," he commanded. Scarlette snorted. Morgan raised an eyebrow and laid the blade at Jack's throat.

"All right, all right, you pompous bastard," she walked over to stand beside the dark pirate. He stood straight, his skin stark against his brown hair. "But I do not take lightly to threats." She kicked about chest high on him, meaning her foot went well above her head. Surprisingly enough, he caught her leg and dropped her to the sand. Cannon fire continued to roar as the sun glittered brightly down on the four. Rain pelted them simultaneously. It really was a battle of every degree.

Jack jumped up to accost the man but Morgan spun and placed a hand on his forehead, inhaling. Jack dropped but Scarlette smirked. She nudged the back of Morgan's knee with her foot and he toppled over.

"Run!" she shouted to the newcomer. Kami stared and attempted to free herself from the tide pool, which was really nothing but the sand of Port Royal becoming saturated. (Note: In the Oracle's Prophecy, you might recall the fact that David told Lizzy the story of the earthquake of 1692. Port Royal's beaches continuously become so saturated with water that one can literally sink into them.)

Scarlette went to Jack's side and attempted to revive him. "Come dear, you've killed more than I and have come close enough to death. Of course, you've no siblings and your mother lives, not to mention you've never been bitten by a vampire with the intent to kill you either. Come on, wake. Jack! Wake up!"

Kami was watching the two so intently, she did not see Morgan come up next to her. When she did catch him from the corner of her eye, she nearly doubled him over with a hard swing to the gut. She was so excited, she almost felt the pain as well. He moved just enough out of her reach that her strong arm didn't hurt him too much. He stuck a palm to her forehead unexpectedly and she flopped unconsciously, sinking a bit further into the sand.

Morgan laughed out loud, though he became very dizzy with the strain and seized the doting Scarlette from Jack. She shouted and thrashed viciously.

"Have you not learned anything, wench?" he laughed, giving her the same treatment he dealt to the other two. "I feel pretty confident. Captain Jack Sparrow didn't put up much of a fight." He sneered at the unconscious pirate and kicked a bit of sand at him. Tossing Scarlette over his shoulder, he sauntered off to the jungle.

…

The light glared red through his closed lids. Jack blinked and raised an arm to shield himself from the light. He cursed as a few grits of sand flew into his eyes. This had not really been his day. He sat up slowly and looked around. Noting angrily that Scarlette had been taken again, he stood up and scanned the beach. He'd only been out for a few minutes and could see the back of Morgan about a quarter mile up the beach, his long, brown hair whipping about in the tropical breeze. Jack could make out the limp form of Scarlette draped over the bastard's shoulder.

Without a thought, Jack took off running. He had cleared quite a bit of the distance when he caught sight of Commodore Norrington and the KR riding out to the docks at an expedient pace. Rather than risk being caught again and being held to no end, Jack took off in the opposite direction, noting vaguely which direction Morgan had gone.

As he skirted the navy, he spotted the new girl, dressed in modern clothing, her short hair held up with a paisley bandana of an aquamarine hue. She had sunk to the chest in the wet sand and would continue to sink until the tide let out. Jack knew that she could potentially be buried.

"This is perfect," he muttered, grabbing her wrists and pulling her out of the muck with a loud sucking noise. She popped free of the sinkhole, her jeans completely covered in wet sand. She had lost one of her shoes in the mess but Jack was not about to dig through it with Norrington so close. He hoisted the girl on his shoulder and took off for the Turner estate.

…

Two hours later, in the back cay of Port Royal, both _the_ _Pearl _and, unbeknownst to their crew, _The Necromancer _were moored. Morgan became slightly annoyed at this. He knew where his ship was but he feared Scarlette might be recognized. This was remedied easily. He found a sailor on the docks easily and pulled the faint trick with him, taking only his hat and coat.

The hat was placed on Scarlette's head, hiding her face. He put the rather large coat on her as well. The sleeves covered her hands and the hem went past her feet but it hid her well.

Getting on the ship was easy enough. He held one of her arms over his shoulders and allowed enough energy back into her that she was semi conscious, enough so to walk anyways. They trudged to the ship, just a couple of drunks. Her hair had come undone from the braid and hung over her back down to her waist in golden rivulets.

And that is what caught the eye of Anamaria. She looked out in wonder at the tiny little drunk being helped along by the man with the purple shirt. The drunk boy was tiny and the coat he wore drug on the dock. The hat fell over his eyes. And all that golden hair. Anamaria walked down to the dock and gave Gibbs a look. He watched carefully as she sauntered towards the two and "accidentally" bumped into the short pirate. The hat toppled easily from his, no, _her _head and Anamaria saw Scarlette. Scarlette's eyes were closed and she looked asleep but Anamaria didn't wait to find out if she was okay.

She hissed and shouted. Gibbs vaulted the railing and landed heavily before them on the dock. Morgan wasted no time. He yanked Scarlette against him roughly, draining her energy again and drawing a weapon from his belt. Gibbs yelled incoherently but it was not he who got a stomach full of lead. Anamaria choked on her breath and fell to the docks as Morgan dashed into a seemingly open stretch of water. There was no splash.

The moment seemed to freeze. The docks were left in shade from the jungle and distant cliffs. The sunlight was orange on the opposite cay, which was the beginning of Spittlefield.

Gibbs lifted Anamaria and stared at the empty docks in silence.

…

Kami woke up in a strange room, hearing strange sounds and smelling strange smells. There was no smog and she did not hear traffic of cars on the road. In fact, she could hear the clop of horse's hooves below. She sat up quickly and threw herself out of bed. She was even further surprised when a white dressing gown fell to her feet. She gripped it in wonder. She didn't own anything like this and yet she was wearing it. Her hair was damp and her underwear was missing. This was definitely a bad sign. She didn't know what was worse; the fact that they were gone or the fact that they had been replaced with a pair of odd lace pantalettes.

"Where the_ hell _am I?" she asked the room. It gave no answer but without warning, a dark woman walked into the room. She began speaking French at her. Kami understood but a few words but she caught the meaning. Something about her clothes being ruined. The woman pulled from an armoire a lovely dress of a light blue color. She bade Kami to stand in front of her. Soon, she had been laced up into the dress and was feeling quite uncomfortable. She turned around and grabbed the woman.

"Listen Frenchie. I wanna know where the hell I am and what the fuck is going on, _comprendez-vous_?"

The poor maid squawked and ran from the room. Kami sighed and sat dejectedly on the bed. That was, until Johnny Depp waltzed through the door dressed as that one pirate bloke. Jeez! She hadn't been dreaming!

"Oh, my," she gasped. "Did … did I interrupt filming? You're doing another movie? I am very sorry to have interfered, sir. I am an actress, by the way. Please don't be angry. Why am I wearing this dress? Am I to be in the movie?"

"My, my, you future women do ask funny questions. To explain a bit, luv, you are not in the presence of this Depp character I always seem to be confused with, at least by you future chaps. You have been brought back to the past by some charm stained with the blood of an ancient vampire. What did you touch last, darlin'?"

"An emerald on a gold chain."

"Right. An emerald on a—what? An emerald you say? Where is it now?"

"I dropped it when you ran into me. It fell in the little pool."

"Which means it's at the bottom of the Caribbean by now."

"Um … are you … well, I mean …?"

"I am Captain Jack Sparrow." He flourished and smirked, a bit of gold showing at his mouth.

"Uh ... you're not kidding are you?"

"Not that I know of."

"Well … cool. I'm Kami. Who … where did that girl go?"

"Scarlette? She was kidnapped." His nonchalance made her flinch.

"And who was she? Who was that other guy?"

"She is my wife and he must have been Morgan Maxwell, _le Brigande Noir_." The French was odd in Jack's mouth, coming out in sound code, mostly. Luh brig-und nwar. "Supposedly, he is my rival but he's young."

"Well, age has nothin' to do with it. It's all experience." Kami nodded with her words.

There was a sudden shout from below and Jack rushed from the room. Kami, curious as to what was going on, not really believing that she'd been brought back in time, followed, half expecting to find Gore Verbinski berating this pirate fiend for ruining the shot.

What she saw was Gibbs carrying a wounded Anamaria into the parlor. Kami almost fell over in shock when she saw Will moving to help carry the wounded woman. Come to think of it, it might have been the corset that made her almost fall over. Blasted things. Of course, the shock of both Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom, or at least look-alikes in the same room was overwhelming.

Anamaria was set on the couch and immediately began calling for Jack. Jack shouted to an older man to fetch Mulligan.

When Mulligan, a doctor, arrived, everyone was told to clear out of the room except for Jack.

"This isn't another one of yours, is she?" Mulligan asked Jack. "I don't like your women. They're stubborn."

"She's not my woman, but she's just as stubborn."

Mulligan bent over Anamaria and made incoherent murmurs on her condition while Jack held her hand tightly. She stared at her captain with a certain sadness reserved for one who knows their fate.

Mulligan tapped Jack on the shoulder and brought him to a corner of the room. Speaking quickly, he told him what was expected.

"She's been shot in the stomach," he began. "The ball has torn through most of her mid abdomen. I feel you should know that it's a miracle she's lasted this long. The miracle will not prevail for much longer however. She is not in much pain. I am going to leave the two of you alone for a few minutes."

"You mean there's nothing you can do?"

Mulligan narrowed his blue eyes. "Well, that is a matter of negotiation. As she is, and as you are, I can do nothing for her."

Jack gave him a look. "What are you going on about?"

Mulligan smiled then. "I suppose it really comes down to what you believe in, Sparrow. I can't save her at the moment, but I _can_ guarantee that she will come back. All I need from you is a little promise to come and join me when _you _die."

Something clicked in Jack's mind. The conversation was bizarre, but it was immediately understood, at least between them. "So it's you, then. You're telling me that to save my friend, I have to strike up a deal with the likes of you."

"You were always quick to grasp the situation, Sparrow."

"Well," Jack narrowed his eyes. "Have you done away with the good doctor, or have you always been Mulligan?"

"Agree to my terms, Jack, and I'll tell you."

"Me for her, is that it? Do I have a time limit?"

"I am not an ocean deity, Sparrow. Agree and she will return before you die."

Jack took a breath. "Return. Meaning she'll die and come back."

"That is exactly what I mean."

They stared at each other for a moment and Jack nodded. "All right."

"Very well. I am Doctor Mulligan. It was me there when your children were born, Jack."

Jack frowned. "Why?"

Mulligan smiled and gave him a rather sideways smirk. "I am interested in your situation. That is all I will say. Now I am going away and you will have a conversation with your dying friend."

Jack swallowed and nodded. Mulligan left the room, clearing the several eavesdroppers from the door, shooing them with his cane. Jack went to kneel beside the couch. Anamaria clutched his hand as if it was her lifeline, and perhaps it was.

"Tell me what happened, luv," he told her. She nodded and with shallow breath, spoke quickly.

"We were in the back cay, presumably alone. Two men dressed strangely staggered down the docks, apparently drunk. Nothing too unordinary except for the fact that their sizes were so contrast. There was a very large one holding up a tiny little sailor. The smaller one was wearing a coat that dragged on the ground and covered the hands. The hat they wore fell over their eyes. I might not have even risked it but for the hair. Long, golden brown hair down to the waist in very feminine tresses. I ran and bumped this person and found it was Scarlette. She was unconscious and this other character, so dark. His eyes looked frightening. Gibbs jumped the rail but was too late. This man shot me and took off. He has Scarlette, Jack. I'm sorry I could not save her."

"Don't apologize for that or anything, luv," Jack whispered. "It's certainly not your fault. I failed to save her as well. Not to worry, dear. It will be fine."

"No, it willn't," she cried. "He may kill her, and to be sure the fault lies with me. I could have stopped him, if only I knew of the gun."

"Stop saying that," Jack told her. He was indeed crying. Anamaria was one of his closest friends and to loose such a friend meant everything to him. He remembered the boat he'd long ago taken from her to flee the Spanish navy from Tortuga.

"Jack ..." she whispered, wiping her face dry for a moment. "That snake … it's at Isla de Muerta. I would take it and hide it elsewhere. Norrington should not find it."

"Why? Is it dangerous?"

"No. I don't know. Just … hide it. Something tells me it's important."

"I will. Anything else?"

"Can you visit my father? Tell him what has become of me, please."

"Of course. I will slice him up a portion of the revenge plan as well."

She closed her eyes and began to breathe in gasps, tears leaking from her eyes to run a smooth path across her beautiful mocha colored skin. Her hand tightened around his and the air caught in his throat.

"There's something else I feel you need to know, Jack," she told him gravely. "You probably guessed it at some point in our long acquaintance, lord knows Scarlette picked up on it the day she arrived in that cave, like a golden edged star to dazzle you. If she were anyone but herself, I would hate her but in the fact that she is so much like you, I can accept my defeat. I have always loved you, Jack. From that moment I pulled you from the well in Tortuga, I have felt within me a need to see you. I am glad you found your happiness because seeing you with that grin makes me happy as well. Good-luck and goodbye, Captain. I was glad to have worn your title in your absence. I take it Gibbs will replace me. Tell him I'll miss him dearly."

Jack had remained silent through this exchange, soundless tears dropping off his firm jaw to fall to his knee and dapple the fabric. Her hand slipped from his to rest beside her hip on the small couch. Mulligan chose that moment to enter the room. He shut the door silently behind him and knelt beside Jack. Anamaria's beautiful sloe eyes were shut, her mouth tilted in a slight smirk, reminiscent of better days. Mulligan nodded and Jack stood, turned to leave, and froze. He moved back and took the orange sash from her belt, gripping the fabric almost hesitantly, as if he were not certain as to why he'd taken it. He untied a bit of old lace from her wrist and wore it himself, tying it with his teeth and right hand to his left wrist.

He exited the room and shut the doors behind him. Gibbs looked expectantly up at Jack. He shook his head, handing the orange sash to Gibbs. The swarthy old seaman burst into loud, messy sobs. He sat down in a corner chair by himself and choked his grief into the brilliant fabric. His howls made the others stare down at the floor. Jack had watched Gibbs break down and thought it best to be somewhere else. He all but disappeared.

Kami didn't really know what was going on, having only been previously tossed into the plot. She did however recognize Heather.

In fact, maybe there was someone to blame her confusion on, and it was almost legitimate. She strode over to Heather and whirled her around. "Do I believe in magic, my arse! What the hell did you do to me?"

"I didn't touch you," Heather told her. "I never even did anything to you. I don't know how you ended up here but I suppose it was for a reason."

Heather moved away from the hostile newcomer as quick as she could and Kami was left floundering again. She looked around in annoyance. Here she was, stuck in a room full of people she'd either never seen before in her life or had seen in a movie. She caught sight of a door and went for that. It led her outside, where she followed a stone path to a garden. Jack was seated in the garden, staring up at the sky. Kami moved to leave but was called back.

His gaze had never wavered from the darkening sky but he had known she was there. "Don't be afraid. Sit down, tell me more about who you are."

"What just happened?" Kami asked without sitting. Her back was painfully straight and her rigid posture could not all be contributed to the corset.

"A lot more than anyone will ever know," Jack's eyes saddened. "I just lost one of my very dear friends to that man you saw earlier today and I intend to collect on what he owes me. He has kidnapped friends of mine, along with a number of other women. He is manipulating me to find a certain treasure for him. He'd better hope Scarlette kills him before I do because when I catch up with the bloody bastard, he's not going to like it much."

"I am coming." Kami stated. "On your ship, I mean. I want to see this happen."

"I can't risk having you on board so soon after Anamaria's passing. Gibbs would be heartbroken and would probably treat you colder than a winter's day. He never liked women aboard but he and Anamaria were very close, as a Quartermaster, or Quartermistress really and bos'un, or boatswain should be. Gibbs will take both positions I suppose."

"I don't want a position. I just want to come along. I'll pretend to be a boy if it bothers them that much. Like it or not, I'm coming along."

Jack sighed. "You and Scarlette need to meet. I can just imagine the conversations between the two of you. You'll either love each other, or hate each other. I'm still not sure I want to risk it but I suppose your mind's made up. All right, you can come, but you won't be the only woman aboard. No doubt the other future people will insist on coming on this … disaster. Will and Christian have to come. Their wives are at stake as well."

"Sounds fun," Kami said with a less than genuine tone. "When do we leave?"

"Not for a few days. Morgan is waiting out there and I daresay we'll have a few more encounters before he gets fed up enough to give us a real message. Pack your things—never mind. You don't have anything left except that little rucksack on your bedside table."

Kami's eyes widened and she ran back to the house. She'd forgotten about that bag. Jack thought the abrupt cut off was strange but he was soon lost in his thoughts again, already missing Anamaria.

…

"This seems to be a theme lately," Scarlette muttered, perched on the gunwales about three miles from shore. "You knock me out, I wake up in a strange place, I escape, you chase me. You catch me, knock me out, and I wake up in a strange place, only to escape. You chase me. You catch me, knock me out, and I wake up in a strange place, only to escape. You chase me down, knock me out, I wake up in yet another strange place. I guess I have to think up another fabulous escape method."

"Please don't," Morgan commented bluntly. "As much as I'd love to see what other ingenious schemes you have up your less than top notch sleeve, I do not want to repeat the dive into the water. I hate swimming."

"Only because you're so bad at it," she cracked. He rounded on her, more angry than anything else that seemed befitting to the situation.

"Oh and aren't we so perfect, eh? What makes you think you can hold a candle to me?"

"Everything," she snapped, jumping down from the edge. "In a fair fight, there's no way you could best me. Of course, between you and me, there will never be a fair fight. Even if you weren't surrounded by your crew, your reach is twice mine and your strength about as much."

"And between you and me," he added stepping up and invading her personal space. "No Sparrow ever fought fair with a blade."

"I don't need you to tell me that. I'm married to one and my daughter's never lost a fight, either. All's fair in war, I suppose," she answered. "I can't exactly play a gentleman's game, being a woman and all. Not that you could very well play one either."

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing."

"You think I am a woman?" Her laughter was so abrupt that his fragile ego took a dent. She calmed down a bit before speaking.

"No, no. That much is evident. No woman could grow that round and not have some breasts to balance." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Now you are calling me fat!" He looked at himself. "Am I? I don't weigh that much." At which Scarlette crooned even louder. This was fun. Let's tease our captor to tears. She didn't think he was fat but apparently, that was one of his issues. How … modern.

As she stifled her laughter, a thin man in a kilt mounted the stairs. Scarlette did a double take. She'd never seen an actual kilt before, not in this time at least. He wore the little green and black plaid skirt with a small sheepskin flap gracing the front. His socks were pulled up to the knee with just a bit of fringe, his black spats making odd noises on the deck.

"McMutton," Morgan acknowledged. "How goes it?"

"Klow is in the rum hold again," his Scottish accent was very thick. Morgan sighed and hurried down the stairs from the upper deck and into the hatch. McMutton nodded to Scarlette and followed. She sighed and leaned against the railing, staring out into the horizon. A sudden scuttling noise brought her attention to a large … thing crawling towards her. She squealed and jumped onto the railing to get away from it.

"It" would be a cat sized spider the color of bleached bone. In fact … her eyes widened. It was made of bones, save for its beady red eyes. How was it moving about though? Was it Morgan, tormenting her? Or was it the ship? Whatever the case, it followed her mercilessly, mirroring her movements. She growled and carefully stood on the railing, bending her legs with the movement of the ship so as not to be flung off the stern. She reached for one of the swinging binds and pulled herself up into the rigging.

She figured she'd be safe as a bird up there, save for the fact that the spider had commenced to scaling the mizzenmast in pursuit, its white legs making clattering sounds that sent shivers up her spine.

"God dammit, I hate spiders," she shouted, jockeying in the rigging. She swung across quickly to the mainmast's rigging and grabbed another line, swinging downwards.

There were more than just one of the eight legged bone creatures and Scarlette was beside herself in agitation. She had no weapons to use against them. She opened the hatch and went below, knowing full well that she might become trapped. Below were more crewman, however.

She found Morgan berating a large man whom she presumed to be Klow. He had shoulder length unruly brown hair and a bemused expression on his face. He was wearing dark grey pantaloons that ended at mid shin. His shirt was a wildly embroidered blouse that had more colors than the rainbow. Over this he wore a mustard yellow jacket. Scarlette wrinkled her nose until she realized his facial hair and unibrow had been drawn onto his face.

She had almost forgotten about the spiders until she heard their little claws along the stairs. She ran right through the conversation and grabbed Morgan's sword, pulling it free and rushing the crustacean-like arachnids. She sliced one, severing a few of its legs before Morgan got her under control. He saw the white spiders and sucked in a breath.

"Interesting. It's never done _that_ before." He put a hand out flat against the air, as Scarlette stood rigid against him, her eyes glued to the spiders. The little creatures gave a squeak and merged into each other, their little bone fragments separating and clicking together elsewhere to become one large spider about the size of a mastiff. Scarlette gave a squeak and fell limp. Morgan held her up with one arm while he pushed at the bone creature.

"Go on, back to where you came from. Go on. You cannot have this one. No, go on. Later, you'll get what you need. I know, but she's invaluable at the moment. Leave." The spider gave a few yips and a growl, smoke rising from its mandibles. It turned abruptly and scuttled back up the stairs, bones falling off it as it climbed until nothing was left. The bones seeped into the woodwork and disappeared.

Klow snorted and fell over on a sack of potatoes; dead asleep, while McMutton and a rather young looking pirate with light brown curly hair tied back in a ponytail stared uneasily at the girl. She was blinking awake and Morgan looked nervous. She opened suspicious green eyes and glared up at him, jumping away immediately. "You did it again!"

"No I didn't. That was your entire fault. Bloody women, fainting and blaming it on me."

"I never faint! _You _did that!"

"If anyone did it, it was the ship which seems to have acquired quite a taste for you. It was trying for more of your blood, Scarlette. It craves more of you."

She looked genuinely frightened, which angered him. It was not he that she feared, but his ship and that annoyed him. Although, he did not crave her as the ship did. In her mind, he was nothing but another opponent.

"What do you mean, it craves more of me?"

"Your blood is powerfully tainted with death. The ship has never tasted blood so ... rich, I suppose. Many aboard this ship have such blood but the problem being, they are all male. The ship will not live on male blood. Or perhaps it is angered by the fact that you did not die to feed it."

"This is ridiculous! I am going to be eaten by a bloody ship!" She began to pace, the men following her with their eyes. Robin, Elizabeth, and Shelly peeked around the door.

"Not unless I say so," he uselessly reassured her. She turned around and got in his face.

"You have kidnapped my friends and me and would kill us to serve your whim had you a spine and you tell me not to worry about your carnivorous ship! My, you think very little of me. And what do you mean, "if you say so?" Your _crew _is too damn squeamish to follow your orders considering a petite woman! You think you can keep this … _power _at bay when they won't approach me?"

"A Sparrow," the light brunette man interrupted. "There is a difference between a petite woman, and a petite woman married to a Sparrow." He, however was ignored.

"I think little of you?" Morgan continued to argue. "You're the one who degrades me at every turn, no matter how outclassed you may be."

"That's it," she snapped. "Cob, Jericho, somebody get me a sword. That's right. Let's go, mister. Let's see what you can do against Mrs. Sparrow."

"My, how they fight like children," Ruby muttered from the staircase. Scarlette brushed past her, followed shortly by the crew and Morgan. Shelly hid behind Elizabeth but Robin shoved her way to the front.

"Ryoko, this is a bad idea," she told the smaller girl.

"I'm going to bloody leave him for the sharks to devour."

"And then the ship will consume you," Morgan told her. "Along with anyone else it sees fit to destroy," he gave a look to the other women.

Robin snorted. "You sure are full of it. I'd kill you, if I was bent on being eaten by a stupid boat."

"It is not a stupid boat," Mullins exclaimed, offended. "It's just a morally dysfunctional boat."

"Uh huh, sure. Tell that to serial killer victims," Robin cracked. "He didn't mean any harm when he buried the axe in my forehead. He didn't know it was wrong. Come on. We're not catering to your version of a mechanical Lizzy Borden."

"Um …" Shelly began. "Who's Lizzy Borden?"

Robin and Scarlette began laughing. "Never mind," they spoke in unison. Scarlette suddenly lashed out, without warning, at Morgan, who blocked her swipe with some difficulty. They traded blows for a bit, their blades clanging healthily together. Scarlette, getting quite the practice from Jack almost daily for the last five years put this new bother through the works.

There were certain moments where she panicked however. She and Jack knew each others' moves well enough that it was almost a rehearsed fight, like a predictable show every time they fought. Morgan, however was a new influence.

Funny though how they read each other so well. Blow for blow, they mirrored each other. Scarlette became angry, and those of us that remember the notorious island fight that ended with Ryoko falling out of that tree know what happens when she gets mad. She gets sloppy.

Of course, Morgan was just as bad, if not worse on the frustration scale. It helped that his blade was his size as opposed to the long blade Scarlette was using. She held up a hand and put her blade between her knees. Everyone watched her, wondering what she was doing.

"This is getting in the way," she muttered, ripping the already shredded sleeves of Jack's shirt off, leaving her with a sort of loose vest. She used one of the strips to tie back her long hair and tossed the rest. She pulled out her sword again and flew at her opponent with a new fervor.

She was quick but he had the advantage of familiarity concerning his weapon. She stabbed forward and he seized her arm, twisting her around and grabbed the other as well, holding her against his chest, almost as if they were dancing.

"This is not a game you want to play, little girl. I will beat you every time."

Her eyes flashed. "Only until I get used to this sword. And don't use that condescending tone with me, _boy_. I am after all a married woman, which commands a certain respect."

"Married? You are but bound to a notorious captain, nothing more. This does not make you a lady."

"You know what I like best about wearing pants?" she asked randomly. He gave her a look, still holding her as she struggled.

"You don't need a corset?" he asked.

"Oooh, good one, but no. I like them because I can do this—" she brought her feet up and kicked against his chest, knocking him back. He let go of her hands and she arched her back and neatly righted herself, gracefully landed in a crouch, one hand on the ground, the other holding her sword. He had been steadily bowing her back by force, which made flipping back and landing easy. "—without flashing a room full of horny male pirates."

"Hey," the other woman shouted. "Not all us women pirates like men."

"You're lesbian?" Robin blurted. The woman shook her head.

"I was referring to the blonde," she pointed to Ruby. She looked simply aghast. "She'd do just about anything if you offered her a shilling."

"You bitch!" Ruby screeched. "I'll kill you, Eva!"

"Oh, I doubt it," Eva laughed. "You couldn't kill an ant if it was beneath your shoe, save for your weight. I know _you_ need a corset to keep your stomach in check."

"And what about you?" Ruby shouted. "You wear men's clothing!" Scarlette shrugged at this and smiled at Eva.

"I don't care," Eva told her blatantly. "I'm not climbing the rigging in a frock just so the men can see my bloomers. You don't even belong here, little slut. The only reason Morgan keeps you on is because he's got a whale sized crush on you, poor man."

"Well, Sheikh Abu has his harem," Ruby screeched out. "Why can't I be here?"

"This has become very junior high," Robin commented absently.

Scarlette was staring with pity at her former opponent and shaking her head. "I'm sorry. You are not worthy to fight me if you can even begin to like something as foul as she."

"This coming from the wench of Sparrow," he muttered. "And I never agreed to what she said."

"But we all know it's true," Ruby giggled, sliding past Scarlette to wrap her curvaceous body around him. Her eyes flashed gold and Scarlette frowned, seeing that she wasn't all human. He looked pained and attempted to free himself. Scarlette sighed and grabbed a handful of the girl's blonde hair, yanking her away.

"Listen," she snapped. "I don't particularly like either of you, but no one deserves to be taunted falsely like that. Do not torture anyone with your less than alluring body, bitch, unless you plan to make a long term commitment, and when I say long term I mean more than the twenty minutes it takes for you to get your kicks." She released the screaming girl with a jerk.

Ruby ran off down the hatch and two of the entire crew followed her. The rest waited until the hatch closed behind them to look back at Scarlette.

"I know, that may have been cold, but I just _can't stand_ girls like her," Scarlette told them bluntly.

Mullins jumped out and shook her hand vigorously. "I love you. We hate her too." Jericho nodded as did a majority of the crew. Eva smiled at her from a distance. Morgan stood, stonily stoic while the other captives just stared. Robin was laughing at the situation while Morgan mentally kicked himself. Here he had Captain Jack Sparrow's wife as his prisoner and she had turned the crew to her favor. Plus his ship absolutely LOVED her, though not in a good way. Highly ironic, that this was supposed to be one of his greatest enemies. She thought he was hilarious in his ineptitude.

He turned abruptly and locked himself in the cabin.

Scarlette snorted. "Talk about childish. He seriously needs to wake up and smell the coffee. Tea. I meant to say tea. You guys aren't American. Screw it. Rum. Rum is universal on the sea."

"Not in the South China sea," Elizabeth piped up. "Remember Mei Lin?"

"How could I forget," Scarlette groaned. "I had to kill her. She ratted me out, even after I saved her and taught her English too."

"Figures," Shelly said unexpectedly. "I never kill anything. Unless it's a rodent. I can't stand mice or—"

"Rats?" Robin asked somewhat distractedly. Shelly nodded and Robin pointed downwards. There was a small rat, nay, large mouse … one of the two, crouched just a few inches from Shelly's foot. Fearless little thing he was but Shelly jumped straight up and screamed louder than Ruby had when Scarlette had pulled her hair.

She started madly flapping her skirts as if it had crawled on her. Scarlette sighed and looked down at her torn and stained clothing. "I need new clothes."

The men all of a sudden began moving quickly. A few of them came back with dresses and a few shirts but no pants that would fit her.

Cob was the only one who brought clothes that fit almost completely by the looks of it. Apparently, he had his own woman, not currently on the ship, which was near Scarlette's size, but a bit taller. It was a black dress with enough lace on it to trim a wedding gown, well, maybe not that much lace. But one gets the idea. She kept the boots but combed out her hair. The bodice was very low cut and fit tightly to her chest, the hem trailing past her feet. Oh, well. Nothing's perfect.

She only hoped that she wouldn't need to run from the ship again. (What a strange sensation. Running from the very thing on which one is walking.)

…

Jack woke suddenly, staring up at the dark beams of his cabin. He looked around and discerned a shape outside the window. He opened the door to Will.

"Jack, we need to leave now."

"Why do we need to do that?"

"So we can rescue them!"

"Boy, this is not a rescue mission. We will not see them again until we find this blasted treasure and to do so we need the ingredients. Blood of someone pure, which is you; a mermaid's scale! God help us, and a bloody Warrior Stone. Do mermaids even exist? And what the fuck is a warrior stone!"

Will stared at Jack for a moment. "I do not believe I have ever heard you use that word. Scarlette, yes, but you?"

Jack gave him a highly irritated glare. He picked up his hat and slid into his coat, pulling on his assorted weaponry. "Maybe I miss hearing her say it."

Will joined the rest of the crew and Jack cleared his throat loud enough for the crew to quiet.

"SQUAAAAAWK! Sambi's sushi bar, open on weekends, 6-9 for half off! SQUAAAAAAWK!"

Jack gave one of his scrunched confused looks. "Cotton, what the blazes are you talkin' about?"

"SQUAAAWK! Avast there, matey. Couple a' fish on the barbie! SQUAAAWK!"

"Oh," Jack said. "Hello, then Mr. and Mrs. Perkins. Welcome aboard. You're just in time to hear all about the bloody kidnap fest going on."

"What happened?" Lizzy asked, staring up at Jack.

He sighed and tried to think through the melee. He tried clearing his throat again without much luck. The crew was too excited, asking questions of each other, fighting over cheese-knows-what. He pulled out his pistol and shot into the air. Everyone suddenly became much more attentive.

"The first thing you need to know is that we are traveling first to Tortuga where you will be able to furlough for one day. Then, we swing by Isla de Muerta," he almost toppled over, swinging with his words. "And then, wherever the map takes us, savvy?"

"What about these bloody ingredients?" Bootstrap asked.

"Ah, those, well, one has already been found and fortunately, it is not necessary to be pure physically, only mentally, and we can all guess …." He grinned as several pirates slapped Will on the back. He looked very agitated and Jack was willing to bet someone was going to get hurt by the end of this trip.

"The other two ingredients are a bit more difficult," he added. "Who the hell knows what a warrior stone is?" No one volunteered.

"Ah, well then," Jack swallowed. "One can only hope we'll find out, eh? And as for the other ingredient … Don't laugh, but … I need a scale from a … certain creature that lives underwater … and on land. I need it from …"

"GODZILLA!" A certain voice shouted. (I bet we all know who THAT was)

"… a mermaid."

What goes up, must most certainly come down, at a fast pace. The bullet Jack had shot into the air to get the crew and company's attention came flying down to hit a certain lady full in the chest. Lizzy screamed bloody murder at the gaping hole in her chest and flopped over board.

David cursed and moved to jump in. He was held back however, as the wonder twins, Sean and Tony dove, nay, FELL in after her. They emerged, holding a woman that looked like Lizzy, but some things ... weren't right. For one, she had purple hair. Scales marched up her arms and steadily disappeared as the water fell off her skin. Most glaringly different was the violet tail that literally swooped back into her body until two feet dangled. They set her on the deck and she gradually evolved into a human being.

She sighed and shrugged, grabbed a scupper bucket and emptied it over her head and they got a second show. She pulled up her skirt as she flopped on the deck and exposed the larger scales of her beautiful tail. Using one of her wicked looking claws, she peeled a scale up and yanked it off before she retained human shape again.

She waited until her tail was gone again and walked up to Jack, handing him the scale as everyone got to watch her hair bleed back to dark brown again. Fascination was one word to describe the attention on her, except in David's case.

"Well, that was convenient," Jack grunted, nodding to her.

"Burn the witch!" one man shouted. Jack pulled out the pistol and pointed at the man.

"She is helping me. No one that gives aid to me freely will be judged by this crew or any other if I can put a stop to it, eh? No one wants to hear what I've got to say about you, do they? Oh, why the confusion? Well, then, I guess you don't care if they know about the young men in your—"

"All right!" the man exclaimed. "I was just kidding."

"Choir."

"What?"

"I was going to say the young men in your choir." Jack grinned at the man, letting him see a definite darker side. They both knew what he'd been talking about, and singing had nothing to do about it.

"Oh, yes. My choir. Well, you guys all know now, eh? I … I am a singer."

"Could be worse," Gibbs muttered. "You could be one of them Mormons."

"Man, I heard they get six wives," Bootstrap contributed. Armstrong crossed his arms and shook his head.

"I'm Mormon," he told them. "And I'd say it would be worse to be one of them fairy men. You know, the ones that like other men. I know us pirates are out at sea for months at a time with no female consort, but I'm not that desperate."

"Gay?" a majority of the future gang spoke in unison.

The man who had spoken left the ship without further delay, too worried to stay and Jack put up his pistol.

"As I was saying," Jack shouted over everyone. "Or as I was about to say, I cannot take all of you on with me. Unfortunately, I have already decided who will be going. The list is as follows. Me crew will be the same with a few adjustments based on recent events. First mate, is now Will Turner, the younger. Boatswain, Gibbs of course and Quartermaster, Bootstrap. Dobereiner is still cook. Gunman is Armstrong. Everyone else knows what to do. Now, for those who will be accompanying us on this journey. Christian Topher, for obvious reasons. Apparently, the Perkins', although this is a new development. Heather, Claudia and Kami. Anyone else, see me."

"I'd like to abstain," Bootstrap called out, his voice a tad worried, his eyes darting out to the water with a strange fear. "You need someone here to protect the little ones."

Jack considered it. "Very well. Topher can take on the Quartermaster duties."

"What the hell?" Tony shouted. "You forgot the ship jesters!"

"More like the ship dumbasses," Sean muttered.

"I was talking about us," Tony told him.

"Your point? I knew exactly what you meant. I should have said the ship's dumbass and the ship's really-wimpy-faints-a-lot-wets-his-panties-and-cries-like-a-baby at-dead-guys-ass."

"I assume you're talking about yourself because …"

"Don't even start with me, Geraldo. I will shove this badger so far up your ass it'll take a fucking armadillo to find it, and God knows how badly THEY can see."

"You make no sense whatsoever."

"Oh, I am so offended."

…

Dusk. Which meant Dinner. Which meant Food. Which was very good because Scarlette and the others had not eaten since they had been captured, which for Elizabeth was a miracle. That she was conscious, anyways.

Of course, the seating arrangements were quite interesting. Morgan sat at the head of the table as was befitting for a captain but no one could quite realize why the old decrepit, foul smelling, bald man who weighed no more than 35 pounds sat at the foot. He had apparently just appeared on the ship and Morgan seemed to know him.

The captives were spread out amongst the men, excuse me, crew. Scarlette was stuck between the dark blond, whose name turned out to be Bert, and McMutton, which was amusing because Bert apparently had a problem with changing personalities. He wasn't schizophrenic, just extremely bipolar. Or really, tripolar. He did have a neutral button. He was wearing a eye mask and was under the impression that his name was The Masked Avenger at the moment.

Robin was sitting between Mullins and a tall man with a bright yellow bandana and so many tattoos he probably bled ink. Everyone called him Jukes. Elizabeth was in between Eva and Jericho and poor, poor Shelly was between Cob and Klow. Sheikh Abu had entered as well, trailing six or seven beautiful women behind him. They all wore Eastern sort of clothing, the sound of all the bangles, bells, and brass fringe in the room louder than the voices.

Scarlette, observing the crew, was beginning to think this was the insanity barge for 18th century loony pirates because everyone seemed to have some sort of … problem.

It all started with the jello. Yes, jello. Hello, pirates eat whatever they want, and these ones were still in port!

Elizabeth fainted dead away and Jericho fanned at her until she was revived enough to open her eyes. There was a snake in the jello. An honest to Buddha snake!

Scarlette smiled, turning a bit green at the corners. Shelly was shaking her head while Robin just sort of stared. Helpings were passed around but only a few actually partook. Those few being Jericho, Klow, Sheikh Abu and his ladies, and the strange man at the end of the table.

The next batch of food brought out by a large man with a striped shirt on, apparently the cook, was a passel of biscuits. This was everyone food, not just whoever food. Although, Scarlette watched the others to see if they ate first, she was not the only one. Robin was staring at Jukes to see exactly what he'd do. He looked like a convict ready to eat small children but ate daintily and turned out to be a vegetarian.

Morgan himself would not touch the food unless Scarlette took a bite first. In fact, he scrutinized this little terror throughout the evening, wondering how she could be easily defeated. She did not look very menacing in the dress, though, she didn't really give one heart palpitations in fear for their life either.

At a tension-filled pause in the eating, Scarlette stood and cleared her throat, which not only commanded attention, but broke the silence.

"You do know one can speak at this table. I will begin by asking who the gentleman at the end of the table is for, you look very familiar to me, sir." She directed the last at him, her eyes dead serious.

"Oh, that's an informant of mine. His name is Old Cheese."

Scarlette suddenly opened her mouth in shock. She couldn't believe it.

"Something wrong?" Morgan asked, watching her struggle.

"I ought to kill you right now, you little stoolpigeon." She strode, separate from everyone else to the foot of the table where Old Cheese sat. He looked up at her, not the slightest bit worried.

"I remember you from ten years ago and not only that, I've seen you in the last few days! You've been giving that bastard information not only on my whereabouts, appearance and other things but on Jack as well. You knew he wouldn't go after this bloody treasure unless forced and I, walking into that cell for a nice vision of deja'vu _pour toi_, gave you the perfect ransom." She raised a hand to strike the old man but was caught from behind.

"First of all, I am not a bastard. Second of all," Morgan towered over her. "I was paying him well. If you must, get angry with me. It will only dig your grave, wench."

Scarlette was already riled but that was not a word to calm her. She pulled away from him and left the room, which was not what anyone had expected. Half of the crew had already grabbed their dishes, ready to run if a fight broke out.

Instead, she climbed up into the rigging and sat, cradled by the very ropes that had caught her. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

"I can free you," she spoke softly. "With his end, you would be free to leave this world. You are a trapped thing, of caged souls forged into a shape that just happens to be a ship. But would you take me as well? Even if I freed you? Would you be the Harpy against the Unicorn?"

"Would it be worth it?" a voice asked from below. She glanced down to find Morgan, halfway up the rigging.

"What?" she snapped.

"To kill that man. To kill me?"

"Oh, would it be," she spat. "You want nothing but for the Sparrow name to die out. It will never be easy, so stop thinking about it. This ship is not yours to command." She put a hand against the wood of the mast.

"Oh, isn't it?" he asked her, climbing a few more feet. "Hold her still." The ropes compressed and bound her in her sitting position. She didn't flinch but did shift her arms away from the pressure.

"Let go," she said softly.

"No," Morgan answered.

"I was not speaking to you," she told him. The ropes did not loosen but she lifted a hand to touch one of them and they slowly relaxed. Morgan smiled.

"That is a false security, girl," he told her. "This ship wants your blood more than anything and that is a valid threat for once we are at sea, your captain will not know if you are dead or alive. I suggest you begin to cooperate."

"Cooperate? What the hell are you bloody talking about? I haven't done anything you have told me not to do. Except maybe this." She stood in the rigging and jumped clean over his head into the air. She seemed to freeze there for a moment, then decided to be law abiding. Gravity is a powerful law.

Her black dress flowed and showed the outline of her body and she swan dove off the mast. Her golden hair, showing green in the moonlight followed her in ripples from the wind, slicing after her quickly falling body.

He sucked in a breath and that was enough to realize that the ship was drawing her downwards and would not save her life but for its dinner. If he wanted to keep his ransom alive long enough to get out of port to where Jack wouldn't know until it was too late, he needed to do something and quickly. He jumped, but there was a difference between the two. He had utter control of the ship, of the dead. It couldn't disobey his touch. He used one of the rig lines as a whiplash and propelled himself downwards faster than a person could have ever fallen naturally.

The ropes fell with him and created a hammock of sorts, a safety net. She hit the ropes and swung wildly. She flung herself out of their clutch and stood on the deck before him, raking her hair back from her face.

"I suppose I owe my life to you now, eh?"

He smirked. "That's right."

"Yeah?" she laughed. "Well, predictability seems to be one of your few strong suits. I would not have jumped from that high had I not been sure of landing elsewhere than the deck, whether by your hand or the ship's."

"You should not rely on enemies to save your life."

"You're probably right, but you can't risk killing me yet."

"Do not bet your life on it."

"That is my quote, child." She turned towards the hatch and began to walk away.

"Child?"

"That is what you are. Nothing but a child."

"Oh, I assure you, I am more than a child."

She halted and about faced, her hair whirling about her. "Know this. It matters not to me that you can control this mighty ship of death, or even that you are physically more efficient than I in a fight. I do not fear you, save for your stench."

His face twisted in anger. "You little bitch." He stepped towards her and attempted to use his height to intimidate her. She only blinked, and even that was slow, deliberately taunting.

"I don't know what I hate more about you," he began. "That fact that you're a Sparrow, or the fact that you're a woman."

"Seeing as I'm the first Sparrow you've met, it might be the last. You don't seem to like us much. Except of course for whores like Ruby, whom I did not miss at dinner. She must still be pouting."

He grabbed her shoulders rather roughly in his rage. "Listen. I do not have any affinity to that … seductress. She is a very old friend … and both Bert and Jukes enjoy her company."

"Do not hang onto me," she told him bluntly. "I may have to kill you, and if I do not, Jack certainly will."

"That is an encounter I look forward to, dear. We will just have to see who kills who."

"Hell, I take the winner, one way or the other."

"My, you are direct."

"You have no idea. And you know exactly what I mean. You kill him, you'll be soon to follow."

"And what happens if I beat you?"

"Would you not kill a woman?"

"Tempting."

"Likewise."

"I would not kill you," he answered her, letting her arms go.

"Why?"

He merely smirked and it was his turn and walk away. She shrugged and spoke, loud enough for him to hear. "Because your crew would wait until shore leave and never return. Mutiny is an ugly word. _Bon soir_."

And that is probably the third battle between them, that no one is quite sure who won.

…

The crew continued to eat without them and Bert started cackling. Everyone's attention turned to him and he grinned.

"I've got an idea," he told them, looking pointedly at Klow, whose face had been cleansed of the drawn facial hair. He did in fact have two eyebrows and his stubble was rather minimal as opposed to the Russian's pride he'd had earlier.

"Well, stop starin' at me and tell us what your idea is, if you can even call it that," Klow told him with all the air of a modern college student.

"The rum hold is not locked and knowing those two, they'll scream at each other or start fighting or whatever. It will be quite a while, if at all before they return. Let's just drag a barrel in here and make good use of it."

"Ho, The Masked Avenger strikes again!" Jukes exclaimed, leaping to his feet.

Two minutes later, just that had happened. Bert started filling mugs and passing them down the table. Things started getting slightly insane after that.

An older pirate named Starks was the first to loose himself. He had a scar near his right eye that shone pink against his olive skin tone while his somewhat beady eyes were blue without hair to distract. He made no sense as he chuckled through his conversation with Jericho, whom both Shelly and Robin began to notice was a very suave man. He spoke with a certain smoothness to his words, not to mention he possessed a rather beautiful face. To be honest, many of the pirates on this particular crew were not extremely nasty. Most had their teeth and smelled all right. A few could have given men like Will a run for their money.

Mullins could have passed for any 21st century kid, late teen, early twenties. He did in fact have four oral piercings, two on his bottom lip and one below his mouth, plus, an accidental hole through his tongue that he had continued to perforate. He had been eating at a pub in Spittlefield once before and had been slipped some sharp objects by one less than satisfied with his line of work. He had chomped down on one of these hard enough to break completely through his tongue. He sported a tattoo on his calf of the roman numerals XIII. At the moment, he was ranting about Ruby.

"I think one of us should really just poison her or something. She's not helping anyone on this ship. And she's a bitchy sheila."

"But she's good on top," one of the men snorted. Mullins slammed his hand on the table.

"If it were up to me, there'd be no women, save for Eva and the prisoners on board. They're bad luck," Starks spoke. "And maybe the harem girls. So … basically everyone but Ruby."

"Hell, no mon," Cob said after taking a puff on a very interesting pipe. "Me woman be back in Spittafeed. I want her be here wid me, mon. Dat black dress Sparrow be wearin' make me miss her more." Shelly sneezed at the smoke wafting from him and suddenly, he reacted.

"Ah! Ah! She make me sick, mon! I'm gonna die! Somebody save me! Ah! Her nose spittle be killin' me, mon!"

"Cob," McMutton exclaimed. "You're fine. Nothin's wrong. She sneezed because of what you're inhalin'. If anythin', 'at should make ya sick. Stop freakin' out."

Jericho explained to a puzzled Elizabeth. "Cob is terrified of sickness. He always thinks he's ill somehow. He isn't. Ever."

"So he's a hypochondriac," Robin stated. She got several blank stares, then everyone picked up their mugs and drank for lack of understanding.

Twenty minutes later, Robin rubbed her hands together with a gleam in her eye. "Has anyone here heard of a game called Truth or Dare?" The way she figured it, drunken pirates playing this game would be hilarious.

More blank stares. This time they were actually interested in something they didn't know. Robin cackled.

"What's that?" Klow asked.

"Well, you take turns asking each other, Truth or Dare. We can even add some other things if you want. Say it's my turn and I ask Elizabeth, Truth or Dare. She'll pick one."

"Um … Truth," Elizabeth said, slightly confused.

"All right, truth it is," Robin smiled. "Did you ever think Jack Sparrow was sexy?"

Elizabeth's face turned red. "You can't ask me that! I refuse to answer!"

"Oh, but I can. That's how the game goes. And you _have _to answer."

"Oh, bother." She fixed Robin with such an intense glare that the future girl could almost feel the heat from her eyes. "Well, on the island, he was. But that doesn't mean I think of him that way now."

"All rightythen. It's your turn. You can't ask me yet."

"Oh … this is stupid. I pick … Shelly."

"What? Oh … truth."

"Fine. Were you part of this set up?"

"Oh, no. Scarlette ran into me being kidnapped. It wasn't my fault."

"Your turn," Robin notified her.

"Well … Cob."

"'Kay, mon? I pick dare, mon."

…

An hour later, Scarlette re-entered the room to find quite an interesting sight. Klow was unconscious in his seat, head tipped back, mouth wide open, the charcoal facial hair returned. Apparently, the crew did this every time he fell asleep. His colorful shirt was gone but he still wore a white blouse that had been written on. "_I love Morgan with rum_." had been scrawled in an untidy hand. He was also wearing red, bright red, lipstick. Elizabeth had been forced to take off her dress and sit in just her corset and slip. She had let her hair down to take away some of the embarrassment.

Scarlette, not knowing what was going on, sat at the head of the table, quite away from the melee. Bert and McMutton were standing on the table, facing each other.

She leaned over and tapped Cob on the shoulder. "What's going on?"

"Well, dat mon dere, Starks, dared McMutton to smooch wid Bert and dey gotta do it or dey get kicked off ship."

McMutton was staring into Bert's face. "Let's just get this over with."

"What does that mean?" Bert exclaimed. "Am I too ugly to kiss? Do you hate me or something?"

"No! It's just … I don't kiss men."

"Well, okay. You're still my best friend, right?"

"Of course."

"I love you, man."

"So, kiss me. Now."

"What does that mean! You think I'm … that way or something? How dare you."

"No! We have to do this dare thing, remember? Come on. Let's get it over with!"

"Man, this sucks."

"Why?" Now McMutton was the angry one. "Kissing me should be great. Lord knows you don't get any."

"Oh yeah? I kiss lots of people."

"Prove it!"

"Make me!"

"Kiss me."

"This is interesting," Scarlette noted less than discreetly. "Very interesting. How long have they been standing there before I came in?"

"About three minutes," Mullins answered. "And they're more shit-faced than Klow over there."

"I didn't know they had those terms in this era," Robin muttered. (Did you guys know they have shitake as in the mushroom on my spell check? Shitface was why it came up. It doesn't acknowledge this … highly useful term in English but it has Japanese delicacies. Go figure.)

"Well, get it over with," Scarlette prodded.

Bert's face gave a little twitch and he grabbed McMutton's face. McMutton closed his eyes and braced himself. They locked lips and the entire table, save for Robin and Scarlette, gave a collected flinch.

They stayed frozen like that for a few seconds, then flew off the table, wiping their mouths wildly.

"You put your tongue in my mouth!" Bert accused his Scottish friend.

"Did you have to bloody hang onto me so long? Damn, Bert. You wouldn't let me go!"

"I have McMutton spit in my mouth!"

"Hey, guys," Starks, the one who had initiated the dare spoke. "I never said you had to do that on the mouth."

They froze, then went after the small man. "Wait! Wait!" He cried. "It's your turn now, McMutton! Don't kill me!"

"But I can't get you back until it comes around to me again."

"You aren't the smartest pirate, are you," Robin cracked. "All you have to do is dare one of the other men to kiss _him_."

McMutton gave that a bit of thought and nodded. "All right. I dare … Mullins to kiss Starks! Ha! Take that, old man!"

"They certainly have modern jargon," Robin noted.

Mullins nodded, stood from his chair and staggered over to Starks. He shrugged and pecked him on the shoulder, turned, and staggered back to his chair, fuzzy hair moving all the while.

Starks started laughing while McMutton and Bert growled from their seats. Mullins thought for a moment and picked on Jericho. The men had for a while been neglecting the Truth side of the game so it was not surprising when Jericho took a dare.

"All right," Mullins spoke. He got up again and went over to the sleeping Klow, pulled up his shirt to expose his rounded belly along with its tangled hair and a rather generous navel. Shelly's eyes grew very wide. She didn't like belly buttons very much.

Mullins glanced at Jericho, scooped up a handful of red bean paste from the table and smeared it all over Klow's belly, extra heavy in his bottomless crater of a bellybutton. Shelly looked away, swallowing.

"'Kay, Jericho," he stood up and wiggled his eyebrows. "You have to lick this bean putty out of his navel."

Shelly screamed and threw up on Klow's lap, missing the bean paste. Jericho turned a bit lighter but got up out of his chair and knelt beside his fallen buddy.

"You're not going to do it, are you?" Shelly asked, paper white and shaking as she spoke.

"I have to," he squeaked. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes firmly, trying not to gag as well. It didn't help that he was kneeling in Shelly's puke. She was turned the opposite direction, shivering in absolute terror.

He suddenly dove, burying his face in Klow's stomach. When he backed up and ran for the door, Klow's bellybutton was clean. Shelly turned around and saw that fact. She crashed to the floor, unconscious and the sounds of Jericho's retching could be heard from outside.

Drunken pirates are funny, no?

…

Morgan heard the noise from his position at the bow. He walked briskly towards Jericho, who was bowed over the edge and ralphing into the sea.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked. Jericho looked up at him with glazed eyes and apparently, the sight was too much for him. He returned to his purging of Klow's bean paste.

Morgan entered the galley and found ... another interesting sight.

Apparently, McMutton had decided to move the game along and had chosen Scarlette and she'd picked truth. He asked if Jack had really gotten shot in the chest and lived and she answered accordingly. She had dared Robin to get up on the table and dance _La Macarena_. Robin had complied, but only, and her conditions were firm, if Scarlette did it with her. And this is where Captain Morgan (hee, hee) walked in.

"Hey, Macarena!" the girls shouted. Laughing, they hopped off the table and Morgan gave the group a blatant glance. No one had really stayed in their seats. Klow had been left alone. Shelly and Jericho were missing. One chair had been obliterated by Cob. He'd been dared to jump the table and had landed on the opposite chair.

"What are you gits doing?"

"Nothing," most of them said in unison.

"Nothing, eh?" he snapped. "I walk in and two of four prisoners are dancing on the table, fully clothed mind you. Another is lacking in this state, and the last isn't even here. What the hell is going on?"

"What are you talking about?" Mullins asked him. The first two buttons on his Chinese shirt were undone. He fixed one of them a bit nervously. This was, after all, the captain.

"Well, for starters," Morgan picked up a mug. Sipping it and grimacing, he turned to Mullins and slammed it on the table. "We all know what is in these mugs. I am holding the first mate and Boatswain responsible for this. That would be Bert and you, Mullins. Do you know what I am going to do?"

Mullins shook his head to negate.

"I am going to break out my little friend," Morgan growled, grinning ferociously.

"Uh, oh," Robin whispered. "Everyone hide their anus."

He whirled and glared at her. "The Captain's Daughter."

"Dude," Cob sputtered. "She has a name. And she's not a captain's daughter."

"He's not talking about me," she spoke ominously.

"Well, den you have a daughter?" Cob asked of Morgan, hiccupping. "I thought you were celibate due to religion."

"It isn't religion keeping this guy celibate," Scarlette cracked. His attention moved to her instead of Robin. An easy target for his anger, he continued to glare at her.

"Moses' law, both of you. Bert and Mullins will be flogged at noon tomorrow." he made to leave and Scarlette jumped up.

"You can't do that," she told him. "According to the Articles of Piracy, this misdemeanor occurred while in port and is not punishable by Moses' law at all. Really, it is as if it occurred in a bar if you have not left the bay."

"I am the captain," Morgan told her.

"Could have fooled me," she muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. But you can't punish them."

"Would you like to take their place?"

"Not particularly, but you still can't do it."

"Watch me."

Scarlette knitted her brow and wondered if it would be bad to clock him right then and there. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "If I take their place, will they be free of charge so to speak?"

"Aye," he agreed. "As soon as the leather touches you, they're free, though you will still have 77 to go."

"Wait, Moses' law states forty, less one."

"Times two."

"Bastard! I'll do it."

"Really?" he was amazed that she would agree to such a thing. Before he could change his mind, she seized his hand and shook it to close the deal.

"No!" McMutton shouted. "You'll be killed!"

"No," she told him, very sure of herself. "I'll survive."

"Impossible!" Starks exclaimed. "One man was flogged only ten once and died from it. You'll be up against 78!"

"Inconceivable!" Sheikh Abu declared. His harem nodded.

"Are you insane?" Elizabeth screeched.

"Mother, my ducky's stuck," Klow gurgled.

"Has anyone seen my pipe?" Cob asked.

"It's settled then," Morgan said a bit sadly. He turned and left, making Scarlette wonder. He did not seem happy about the transaction. Jericho came in after he'd left. "What's up with him?"

"I'm not sure," Scarlette answered. "He was going to give both Bert and Mullins the Cat of Nine tails on Moses but I'm going to go through it instead."

"Twice! She's got 78 coming!" Mullins was agape.

"And he looked like that?" Jericho stammered. "No way."

"What?"

"He's crying."

…

Yikes. My stomach hurts and I'm hungry. I have pow wow tomorrow. Okay, answers to the quotes.

"Bulbous … poofed." ~ Jericho

"I am NOT stoned … final." ~ Cob (highly amusing. The teacher had asked him what he'd eaten for lunch. He stated that he hadn't eaten anything but he was mighty hungry, hint, hint.)

"I can't … soundtrack." ~ Morgan

"I hate dirty females." ~ Ruby

"Send me … brain." ~ Lizzy

"Monkeys! Socks!" ~ Heather

And that's about it, folks. Page count. 74. Yikes. date completed. 1:04 am, Sunday, June 20th.

**Except, revisited, it's not. 1-28-07 pgs 109**


	6. Chapter V: Back to the Future

Hi kids! How ya doin'? Glad to hear it. Interesting chapter ahead of you. More confusion. How about you guys submit thoughts on characters. Who, besides the regulars, is a favorite?

Anyways, more quotes.

"Hi kids! My name's Marchie! That's capital M, followed by Archie!"

"Whoopdi-fucking-doo." (In response to a million points on high-score pin ball.)

"Apparently he thought I had suckable toes."

"Holy God, it's a hand!"

"I hate robbing banks!"

And that's it, for now.

**Chapter V –Back to the Future**

It was the next day and _the Pearl _was just about to leave the harbor. Nearby, _The Necromancer _sat, bobbing in the breeze, but no one but the crew knew this.

It was a few minutes after noon and Jack was talking animatedly to Kami.

"So you think she can fend for herself?"

"Most of the time," Jack answered, a bit hesitant. "I've never officially met the guy so I don't know if she'll do well or not. Of course, I've never met someone who can knock you out with just a touch of the hand and an intake of air. I did know a man who could kill a human with his mind and send people to different—" Kami suddenly vanished from sight. "… time periods," he ended flatly. He looked around expectantly but shrugged, used to the fact that women from the future sometimes disappeared randomly.

But that's not exactly what had happened.

…

11:56 am.

Scarlette was a tad anxious and her body language showed it. She'd been cracking her finger bones nervously. She'd never been flogged with a whip before. But fear could not be a distraction. She looked up when the door opened and faced her promise. Jericho and Bert were sent to fetch her.

"I'm real sorry 'bout this," Bert told her. "I went to Morgan and asked him to let me go instead, since it was my neck you were savin'. He refused. Said you'd shook on it and there was no way out."

"I was there," Jericho added. "He doesn't want to do this, girl."

"Oh, I bet he does," Scarlette answered. "He just doesn't want to kill me before the time is right."

"He doesn't even want to kill you," Jericho muttered. "Far from it."

Scarlette gave her escort a strange look but they arrived at the main mast and there was no more room for talking.

Morgan looked at the two men and they backed away, leaving Scarlette. She rubbed her arms and felt vulnerable without their warmth to reassure her. She looked up into Morgan's face and watched his stony stoicism with a bit of intimidation. He shook his head and led her gently to the main mast.

"Give me your hands," he told her. She shook her head. She unclasped the emerald from around her neck and held it in her hand.

"Here," she told him, thrusting her tiny fists at him. He wound a rope around her wrists and fastened it around the mast, pulling her taught against it. She held the necklace in her small hands and waited.

Morgan stood at her side and touched her arm. "We do not have to go through with this, you know. All you have to do is let the others take their own blame. I do not want you beaten bloody on my ship, understand?"

"Oh, Morgan," a sickeningly sweet voice crooned. "You know now that you've closed a deal, you must go through with it."

"Ruby," he muttered gruffly. "This is none of your business."

"It is indeed, Morgan," she spouted. "You cater to her, your prisoner, even though she is one of your rivals for power of the Caribbean. You have the chance to show her who is in charge and you opt to let her out of it. Whip the little bitch. I want to see her scream. I want to see her blood fall and stain the deck!"

"Morgan," Scarlette called firmly. "Come here."

He turned back to her and she spoke softly. "After the first lash hits my back, you said that the charge was obliterated. Say that loud enough for everyone to hear it and I'll tell you that after this, only Ruby will be disappointed."

"What are you talking about?"

"Where were you born, Morgan?"

"England. Why?"

"I was born in Los Angeles, California. That's in the United States of America."

"Where is that? I've never heard of such a place."

"If you live ten more years, you'll begin to understand where. It is not where, but when and in a few minutes, you'll be free of obligation to my trial and the men will be happy. Only Ruby will be disappointed now grab your little whip and begin. Do not be afraid."

He blinked, tasting the irony of her telling him not to fear and nodded. Turning towards the crew, he lifted his voice. "Make it known, that as soon as the first blow of this sentence is carried out, all members are free of blame."

"Why's that?" Jericho asked. "Not that I want them still under blame, but I'm curious."

"It's in case she dies before the sentence is ended," Ruby answered a bit too happily. "They can't be whipped for the ones she missed."

"Yeah," Scarlette shouted, a bit sarcastically. "That must be it."

"Begin," Ruby shouted. Morgan held the Cat hesitantly. He really did not want to strike the young woman at the mast. Ruby sighed and stepped down from her spot near the cabin. She pulled out a knife and strode to Scarlette's side. She slashed down the other woman's back, ripping the dress to bare her skin. She had not been careful, however. The blade had bitten into Scarlette's back, created jagged lines that seeped red. Scarlette hissed, but did not cry out.

"Morgan," she shouted, angry. "Do it. Quickly."

He held his breath, closed his eyes, pulled back, and thought of her words. _Only Ruby would be disappointed_. He opened his eyes and let fly with the first blow. The tiny metal studs bit into her back, followed by the lash of the leather. The men flinched but continued to watch. She bit her lip but didn't cry out. She closed her hands over something and tensed.

The whip was coming around for the second blow. The metal studs bit into the wood of the mast, spreading a bit of her blood onto it. The blood seeped into the wood as the ship became slightly happy for it. But Scarlette was gone. She had simply vanished.

Morgan looked around in wonder, not understanding where she had gone. Robin and Elizabeth cheered, knowing exactly what had happened. Old Cheese shook his head, smiling slightly. Ruby was pissed enough to lock herself in the cabin.

"Yeah!" Bert shouted, clapping Mullins on the back. Morgan stood alone and Jericho watched him as a relieved smile crossed his face.

…

Scarlette landed in the woods. She knew where she was because this was where she'd been when Jack had almost left her in the future for good. It was darker now. She looked up at the few patches of sky and saw why. The sky was covered in a dark film. What had happened in ten years?

She looked around and attempted to hold her dress closed. The wounds had of course healed with the time change, but there were still scars both from the knife and the whip.

She heard a noise and whirled around in time to see Kami sit down hard on the ground.

"Oh! It's you. You got away then," she came to sit near the short haired girl. "How did you get here?"

"I don't know!" she spoke. "I was talking to Jack and then … this."

"Interesting," Scarlette spoke, re-clasping the emerald around her tanned throat. "What did you use to get to my time in the first place?"

"What do you mean?"

"You would have had to have touched something gold in order to get there."

"Oh my Lord!"

"What?"

"That! That was it!" She pointed a straight but trembling finger at the emerald around Scarlette's neck. "I found it in my employer's attic."

"Where? Where was this? When, tell me everything."

"Port Royal, Jamaica."

"When! What year?"

"2014."

"So, now. I've brought me back to avoid a beating but for some reason, you came along. I think it has to do with the fact that we used the same time key. However, that means that there are now two of these. What happened to yours?"

"I dropped it when I first got to your time."

"They were both mine. You must have been in my or maybe the Turner's house, only hundreds of years later. Believe it or not, I was born in LA, 1986. I was brought to the past to fulfill a prophecy and ended up staying."

Kami was staring in disbelief. She pinched herself and flinched when it hurt. "This shit really is real."

"Yep," she lent Kami a hand and they both surveyed the surroundings. "'Kay, I kind of know where we are."

"Kind of?" Kami exclaimed. "You brought us here for a reason!"

"No," Scarlette told her. "I attempted to bring _me _here, and I would not even have chosen this place for myself. You see, I was sucked into the 18th century from L.A. California. When I finally returned to this time, my family had moved to another state, to Oregon, and had disowned me. If I had returned before that fact, I might have been able to salvage my connections, but I became incompatible with the time change due to certain alterations to my biology."

"What do you mean?" Kami asked.

Scarlette sighed. "I couldn't return through the normal process because I was carrying a child. I could not return because, to quote an old ally, I was changed too far by that time to leave. The key would not work for me. Quite an interesting point. I imediately attempted to kill Jack."

"Why? It wasn't his fault."

"You see, I didn't know that. I will sum up for you."

NOTE: FOR ANYONE WHO DIDN'T READ THE FIRST STORY, HERE IS A SUMMARY IN SCARLETTE'S WORDS.

"It was Claudia's birthday, yes the same one. Lizzy, Robin, Claudia, Nick, and Diana were all going to the movies and to the mall afterwards. Nick was my brother, Diana was another girl. At the same time, in another period, Jack had been given a prophecy that stated he needed to find his heir. Part of the prophecy was that the leader of the singing women is the key to finding this heir. More importantly was the mention of a golden ring with eyes of ruby, which I possessed at the time.

"Now, as we were walking to the mall from the theater, we sang "_A pirate's life for me_." I was leading this group. All of a sudden, Jack, Will, and a resurrected Barbossa are standing before us. Jack asks for the leader of us and Claudia and I argue about it for a few minutes and finally, she's introduced as the leader. It was her birthday and I let her take the title, as if it even existed anyway. She and everyone else went with Jack and Will and I ended up being taken by Barbossa. He was trying to kill Jack at the time and since he couldn't kill him then, he'd take one of his women.

"Apparently, once on _the Pearl_, Claudia told him that I was the leader and not she. He came and rescued me from Barbossa, who had become a vampire and had also struck a bargain with a Chinese woman, giving him not one but two ships.

"We returned to Port Royal and both Jack and I ended up in jail, his fault I assure you. Back then, my name was Ryoko Maxwell. Norrington was the one who started calling me Scarlette Sparrow. After that, we used it as my cover name. We did in fact escape onto a ship disguised as Governor Swann's cousins. Believe it or not, Jack and I used to fight continuously. He would tease or do something to me and I would get angry. We landed in New Orleans.

"We were discovered that same night and had to leave in a hurry, but not before I met his mother. I had to play as his wife for her but we were still at feudish terms. I only did it to rest the old woman's heart.

"We were attacked by both Barbossa and the Chinese Mei Lin. Fortunately, we escaped, along with a little stowaway. We landed on a deserted island and actually allowed ourselves to be caught so that we might meet up with _the_ _Pearl _at Isla de Muerta. Jack had set it up to where Barbossa would not kill us anywhere but there. It was around this time that Jack and I actually stopped feuding and started becoming close.

"We managed to sink Barbossa's ship and escape, thinking him dead. We also rescued two Oregon girls that had been taken back while Barbossa was smuggling futuristic weapons. They were Heather and Kristin.

"We landed in Tortuga, where I was kidnapped by gypsies and we found Bootstrap Bill, Will's father, presumed dead. This was also where Mei Lin, a few pirates, two vampires and a few bounty hunters caught up with us. The four humans ended up stuck in the Tortuga jail for a bit but the vampires joined our side, telling us that Barbossa had survived. We returned finally to Port Royal.

"A night not long after our homecoming, Barton James, one of the vampires, summoned all the future kids at once and was about to send us back to our time. The thing with vampire blood is that sometimes it has the capacity to react with gold or silver to send anyone touching it to another time. All eight of us grabbed onto that key. Only six of us were sent back. Left behind was Diana and me. Now, Jack and I had just had an argument about my leaving. He wanted me to stay and I wanted to return. I had assumed that he'd made some arrangement with Barton to exclude me. I had no clue that I was with child. Diana had actually become cursed, just like in the movie.

"Well, they came back not long afterwards. Elizabeth had announced while I was in Tortuga that she was having a child and so Doctor Mulligan had been hanging around the house. I was still clueless, though suspicious as to my condition. It was not until Eric, my little stowaway friend was in danger, that I brought it to others' attentions. I ran out to stop a horseman from shooting him and knocked him off his horse. The two men rode away and I became sick.

"Bootstrap carried me into the house and both Jack and the doctor were sent for. After weeks of stubbornness between the doctor and me, he finally came to the conclusion that I was with child. Jack was happy about that. I had fulfilled the damn prophecy, had I not? Everything was fine in the world's eyes. They thought we were married. We'd continued the bloody masquerade since Norrington had made his mistake both for safety and convenience. He did not want women chasing him and I did not want pirates attacking me."

She stopped and sighed, shaking her head. "He received a letter from Barbossa. He knew about Jack's mother and was willing to use her if Jack didn't surrender himself. Jack left to New Orleans. I didn't want him to go. His mother had told me to keep him from leaving if I felt it was wrong. I mean to say that she told me to follow my instincts. This was the second time I had evoked this to him. The first time, he'd been stabbed and thrown from a ship in the dual attack.

"It was Christmas night when Barbossa landed in Port Royal. He handed me Jack's pistol, cutlass, and compass and told me Jack had died. For the longest time, we all thought that to be true, until the dreams. I continually had dreams in which I was under water, surrounded by sharks. Eventually I came to understand that in the dream, I was Jack. He had survived. No one believed me until he returned one April morning. He had been shot in the chest, but it was not a killing blow. He'd recovered and finally traveled back to me.

"Barbossa eventually decided he wanted to kill me as well and kidnapped Elizabeth to get at me. This was all after Sharon was born. He raided the city of Port Royal looking for me but I had been sent to the future with a stronger dose of blood. When I returned, I willingly went to Barbossa and agreed to become the captain of his second ship, the offer Jack had given him before his first death. All of this was pretense of course. _The Pearl _was following at close range. Mei Lin had, up until this point, been on my side. I had saved her from a few men in the harbor long before Jack had left and had taught her English. She turned right around and ratted me out to Barbossa. I shot her dead and covered the story well enough that Old Barbie fell for it.

"We did manage to defeat him. I was sent to the future because Jack thought I was dying. He, in fact, told me that he loved me, which in itself was a shock. Shock enough that I refused him before he sent me back. When I returned to that time, I found he'd gone to France, been captured and sold to the English, and was awaiting trial, or really, awaiting his hanging date. The crew and I saved him, though without help from my brother, who also switched sides and was killed by Gibbs. I had been shot and was barely alive when Jack activated the necklace.

"We arrived right here in this clearing. He took the necklace from me and began to walk away with the plan to leave me here. He was convinced that I did not and would not love him, however, I did. I ran after him and we returned together. We officially got married, as well as Lizzy and David, Robin and Topher, and strangely, Diana and Norrington. And that's basically the end of our last real adventure." (Almost 700 pages summed up in 2 pages. Which do you prefer?)

"You're not making this shit up, are you?" Kami asked, climbing the steep hill while holding up her voluminous hems.

"Why would you say that?" she asked.

"It's too ... detailed. And certain things you wouldn't have said had they not been true. Where are we going?"

"Well," she began. "First, we are making a little visit to Heather's parents' house to get some things. Then, we'll see after that."

…

Jack gave the order to set sail towards Tortuga. He knew Kami would appear later and was not worried about her. Scarlette however, he wanted safe and he would find the blasted treasure if it killed him. However, the last ingredient, a warrior's stone was yet to be found. In a way, the trip to Tortuga was to find one of the voodoo gypsy sisters.

Yards away, _The Necromancer _followed suit. Morgan was back in his supposed comfort zone. He didn't have to worry about Scarlette for a while. He had gotten Elizabeth to explain the situation. Robin had blatantly and almost violently refused to tell him anything about it but Elizabeth was easily interrogated. He could expect her back after a few days, most likely dressed outrageously and loaded with all sorts of weaponry. It was not something to look forward to but he could do nothing about it.

He told the men to be extra courteous to her when she arrived. He did not want to risk pissing her off when she was completely ready to kill him. He'd later try to find some convenient way of disarming her.

"You don't need to tell us," Bert snapped at him. "If she's going to kill anyone on board, it's you or Ruby. Plus, we were always nice to her. You're the one who always picks fights with her."

Morgan ignored him, save for one raised eyebrow. He corrected his angle a bit to port, turning the helm enough to matter, and kept his eyes on _the Pearl _as she sailed from the bay.

Of course, these black ships were hardly the only ones leaving port. There was one other, a large Man o' War, trimmed beautifully with white canvas sails, flying a British flag. Norrington was on the watch.

He put down his scoping instrument and ordered Gillette to pull a bit to port. Quite the distinguished man, James Norrington was. He was a powerful Commodore. He stood tall with his powdered wig and his tri-cornered hat. He knew everything that went on in Port Royal. Well, so he thought. He didn't even know everything that was going on in his own ship.

Below decks, hiding in the bilge that had yet to be pumped, sat four twenty plus future kids. Chelsea and Kristin had been complaining about being cut out of Jack's list when Sean and Tony had noticed the Commodore ordering his men about. They sent Chelsea, the most harmless looking of the four to ask questions of the proud man. She'd come back with information about the Navy's trip to ensue. They would be following _The Black Pearl_, knowing that Jack would be aboard.

"Okay, let's go!" Tony spouted. "The ship's moving, we're free!"

"No!" Kristin ordered, grabbing a hold of his shirt and yanking him back. "We're still too close to land to let them know we're here."

"You guys do know that stowaways are sometimes put to death," Chelsea mentioned quietly. Everyone stopped moving and stared at her. She shrugged and explained. "We need to think of something that will keep us alive."

"Threaten him with Scarlette," Sean suggested. "He always seems to shut up when she threatens him."

"Or use Elizabeth and Robin, while insulting Jack," Kristin added, nodding enthusiastically.

"For now, we just need to _shut up_," Chelsea told them. She looked about with her clear blue eyes and spotted an old sail canvas draped over some crates. "Grab that canvas, Sean." Sean looked over, wiping his damp hair away from his eyes. He pulled the large piece of fabric off the crates and dragged it over to the bench. They put it over their legs and waited, whispering between each other as the cloth soaked up the bilge water as well as their clothing.

On deck, Norrington was watching _the Pearl_ move from port. A large ship farther out to sea in the other direction caught his eye. He hailed one of the sailors and borrowed their glass, focusing the lens until he could make out the other ship.

It was a large Man o' War, much like _The Dauntless_ on which he stood, though it looked to be just this side of larger. Her colors were the same as well and Norrington wondered who was sailing into Port Royal that needed that large a ship. He looked up at the flags, expecting to see only Britain's jack. However, there was a navy blue flag with a curious white design. Norrington growled with discomfort. The Company was sailing into port.

"Be glad that we are departing, gentlemen," Norrington commented with a grim tone. "The gallows were just destroyed and we will not be there to face the Company's wrath over something that makes us seem so inept."

Any time the East India Trading Company had sailed that large a ship into port, they had either press ganged hundreds of men for their marines or taken over for a while, excuses ranging anywhere from necessary to ridiculous. With this pirate fiasco at hand, Norrington didn't want them involved. He was glad he was leaving for a while, however, and would not be around to get bullied by whoever was in charge.

There were so few Company officials that were understanding when it came to Jack Sparrow.

…

"All right, this isn't what I expected," Scarlette was reading the new registration form she'd gotten from the gunsmith.

Both she and Kami were decked out as they'd wished, on Scarlette's money. She'd gotten her safe deposit box key from Heather's mom and gone to get her money and identification. The Oregon I.D. labeled her as Ryoko R. Sparrow, a mixed name. Her nationality was listed as Native American. Unfortunately, while she'd been absent, new laws concerning arming oneself had been passed. She had always been able to buy her weapons and then, theoretically, apply for a carrying permit. However, she had never stayed in the future long enough to need a permit. Now, they required her to show both her permit, I.D., and a signed permission slip from a local judge. She did not have this kind of time.

"All right, scratch that," she and Kami exited the gunsmith. Kami was dressed for the warmer weather. England, even in the summer, was not very hospitable to her choice of clothing. She wore a black top with tiny little straps. The hem of the shirt came down at an angle both in the front and the back, making one end longer than the other. She wore blue jeans and a pair of black heels that Scarlette refused to try. Her short black hair was jelled up, keeping it out of the way. She wore small silver hoops in her ears, along with two gemmed studs and one silver complimentary stud.

Scarlette had gone a bit more threatening, as she always enjoyed doing. She had braided her golden hair down her back, rimmed her green eyes in black and threaded gold hoops through her ears, but these were the least catching of her appearance. She'd found a leather shop and had indulged. The boots were not new but the pants and coat were. Pants were pants, black, tight and leather, but the coat was what caught the attention of many around her. It was ankle length and flowed when she walked. The shirt was the only semi normal thing she wore. It was a black tank top with green lettering that said, "Irish today; sober tomorrow."

"We won't be able to use guns then," Scarlette set off at quite a fast pace. "Blades. Blades are an option."

"I don't like guns anyway," Kami told her, shivering. "I wouldn't have used one."

"Fine," Scarlette said. "There's a cool shop somewhere around here that sells swords and knives and lighters, amongst other things. We can stock up there."

"How much money do you have?"

"Enough," Scarlette answered.

…

"How was I to know?" Scarlette exclaimed. "I'm gone for a few years and prices on everything go up! I guess I'll just have to choke them all to death!"

"I thought you said they weren't going to kill you?"

"I did."

"So why are you so eager to acquire weaponry?"

"It makes me feel better, all right! I hate being helpless against them! And I never said anything about me not killing _them_."

"From what I've heard of your reputation, you are anything but helpless. And why should having weapons make you feel less so? Why must you threaten them to keep yourself safe? In that outfit, your word should be enough."

Scarlette sighed. "Are we going back?"

Kami shrugged. "You're sort of obligated. I don't really have a choice. I'm stuck in America if I don't return with you."

Scarlette did not look happy. "Hopefully we'll land where it's safe … not on Morgan's ship."

"If we land on _the Pearl_, then we can go back to Port Royal, right?" Kami asked. Scarlette shook her head.

"No. Robin and Elizabeth are on _The Necromancer_. We'd still have to go find the treasure. I suppose it's safer for them if I do go back. Robin would probably be okay, but Elizabeth isn't prone to violence."

"So let's go. We've done all we can here."

"All right, then. Hang on."

…

Kami landed on the deck of a ship. She was very aware that she was getting stares from all around. She glanced at the faces and realized she didn't know any of them. One with dread locked hair called out. "Get down here, mon. Dis one's new."

The same man whom she'd seen on the beach the day she'd arrived came down the stairs and stopped cold when he saw her. "What is she doing here?"

"Shit, wrong ship," Kami squeaked.

"Grab her," the man in black ordered. And just like that, the pirates moved in towards her.

Kami smirked. That wasn't going to happen.

…

Scarlette noticed that she was not on _The Necromancer _and smiled happily, until she realized that Kami must be on the other ship. She looked astern and noticed the white sailed ship about a league back. The ocean was indented about halfway between each, most likely where _The Necromancer _was running. She turned back towards the bow and noticed Jack at the helm.

She tiptoed up behind him and covered his eyes. He froze and growled gruffly. "This had better be someone damned important or they don't value their life." Scarlette frowned. Jack must have been tired indeed to be so gruff.

She uncovered his eyes and he turned around. Obviously shocked, his dark eyes widened and his mouth quivered. He crushed her to his chest.

"But how? Never mind. I understand. Kami disappeared earlier. Where is she?"

"Probably on the ship behind us."

"The white one? I think that's Norrington."

"No, the one _directly _behind us. Look at our wake."

He did as she said and noticed the irregular indentation. "Bloody hell. What is that?"

"His ship is invisible, with the help of blood, or a death, depending on who is being used. It took only a smidgeon of my blood to feed it, but now it craves me. It's some sort of necromancy that makes it work. I'm not sure why, but it seems to be addicted to me."

"Interesting," Jack spoke, a hand snaking around her waist inside the coat. "Something a ship and I have in common, although I want something more than your blood, luv."

"Of course," she smirked. "There's not much else you think of."

"That hurt, and it happens to not be true," he grinned at her. "I think of treasure. And rum. Who could forget about rum. I love the shirt, by the way. Future things do get quite bold, do they not. Although, one does not have to be Irish to drink." He pulled the top hem of it with his finger, risking a glance down her shirt. She put a hand over her cleavage and he gave a short laugh.

She smiled up at him. "I am glad to be on a ship I know."

He cupped her face. "I'm glad you're here, luv. Too bad Will and Topher weren't as lucky as I."

He moved closer and she reciprocated.

…

She threw another pirate over her head as Morgan watched, not at all concerned with their well being. He was still trying to understand how this girl had ended up on his ship instead of Scarlette. He strode towards her, pulling out his sword to fend off her physical dexterity. She stopped and stared at him with large brown eyes.

"I suppose I could use you for something," he muttered, waving an unconcerned hand towards her. Starks grabbed her from behind and she took but two seconds to fend him off and drop him to the ground. Morgan sighed in frustration. She was better than Scarlette was at getting away, or at least better at keeping a position. Scarlette usually moved as she was fighting, eventually reaching a place where she could stop. This woman just stood on the deck and flipped men over, punched them out, kicked them in not so nice places.

He reached over and placed a palm to her head. He had begun to inhale when she jabbed him in the gut, winding him. He only succeeded in making her very dizzy. And she bent over slightly, as if she were in pain. He sheathed the sword and grabbed her, pinning her arms to her side. She glared up defiantly at him, thinking about how, since the dizziness was fading, she was going to hurt him at the first opportunity.

She didn't really need to think much more about it because she found herself looking up at Jack instead. She screeched at the surprise and he jumped back immediately. He looked around frantically.

"How did you get here?" they asked simultaneously.

"This is my ship," he snapped intolerantly. "Where did _she _go?"

"How? What?" Kami looked around and realized she was back on _the Pearl_. "Oh. We switched again. I guess that charm doohickey thingamabob realized it had us in the wrong places and switched us again."

"So she's over there?" he exploded. He threw up his hands and returned to the helm. "I hope that bastard docks in Tortuga with us so I can kill him."

Kami nodded in agreement, rubbing her stomach. She didn't remember getting hit, but she was sore there. She moved to the bow and looked out at the horizon, hand over the place on her stomach.

…

Scarlette's ears popped and she opened her eyes, her blood running cold when she saw a perplexed Morgan holding her arms at her sides. She wrenched free of him and they both backed up. She turned around and kicked the helm. "Dammit! It switched us again!"

Her blow had spun the wheel to starboard and a bit too far at that. The crew that was standing went flying and Morgan jumped to the helm to correct the rudder angle.

Ruby came running out of the cabin, which had sort of become hers for when she had arrest of it, Morgan refused to enter. She flew over to Morgan and started whining. Her voice and its sirenic powers changed now and everyone who could hear it immediately wanted to cover their ears. It was like listening to seagulls battling.

"Do you realize what you just did with your reckless sailing? All my powders and things have fallen all over the floor. My shoes have become strewn about, unmatched. My numerous petticoats have fallen from the rack and all my bonnets have become lost under that miserable bunk you call a bed!"

"Sorry," Morgan muttered, pushing her away gently. "I'll help you clean it later."

"No," she snapped. "You'll clean all of it. I will not fix a mess that wasn't mine."

"Oh, shut up," Scarlette laughed. "I don't know who you think you are, but the crew is not impressed and nor am I. You want to know what really happened? I kicked the helm and it spun out of control for a few seconds. You were not the only one affected, yet, you are the only one complaining."

"Well, then you can clean up the spills."

"Fat chance of that, lady. I'm not setting foot in that cabin, much less to clean up your crap. Do it yourself, or it won't get done."

Ruby stepped right up to Scarlette, which meant Scarlette was looking up into her brown eyes. Ruby had a few inches on her. "You are not one to order _me _around, Little Sparrow. Your husband's name makes you think you are worthy of much more than reality has dealt you."

"You know," Scarlette told her, smiling slightly. "That, I think, is the most intelligent wording I've heard you use, though when describing me, it means nothing. Ask around and you'll find I was like this before I met Jack. A change of name won't catch me changing my tail feathers, or hiding my spots. Now get out of my face before I make you."

Ruby continued to attempt an intimidation of the smaller woman. "Your stubbornness is not a trait I like, girl. I intend to bring you down a notch."

"You mean down to your level? Good luck with that, Blondie. You've got to at least match me in something before you can knock me down to your place."

The slap stung just a little, enough to make Scarlette angry. She glared dangerously at Ruby and was tempted to hit her back. "Be it known that the only thing saving your face from my hand is your gender."

"Oh, dear. You won't hit me back, then. You're lesser than I thought."

"Trust me, bitch. You don't _want_ me to hit you back."

"Because my fun taunting you will be over with your weakness."

Scarlette shook her head and turned to Morgan. "Is she really this stupid?" He shrugged and refused to get into it, although half the crew was watching.

"Kick her ass, Ryoko!" Robin shouted. "Lord knows she deserves it."

"Oh, I know, but she hasn't done anything worth it yet," Scarlette answered. "That little tap she just gave me hardly penetrated, it was so light." She had the crew laughing openly now and Ruby was giving her piercing looks. All of the woman's angry stares were going ignored of course.

Sheikh Abu cleared the stairs with his harem girls and the women watched the two grandstanding with wide eyes. Scarlette looked over at a particularly colorful one and allowed herself to be distracted for a moment. Suddenly, the busty blonde in front of her launched herself onto Scarlette's back, both of them going down in a heap. Scarlette hit the deck on her stomach, Ruby above her, grabbing her long braid and yanking.

"I'll kill you!" she screeched, her high-pitched voice cutting through everything else. Many of the men clamped hands over their ears.

"Get the fuck off me, you chubby priss bitch!" Scarlette exclaimed, attempting to roll the blonde off. Nothing was really effective. Luckily, Ruby wasn't doing much damage with the hair. Scarlette was used to people yanking on her hair. It had desensitized the area. She grabbed Ruby's legs and pulled. Ruby slipped backwards a bit and Scarlette pushed herself up, knocking the flighty woman off her back. Ruby's head hit the deck with a thunk but she only screeched and righted herself.

She stripped off the coat and tossed it aside, standing with her feet splayed, waiting for Ruby to come at her again. She wasn't going to let her off this time. Ruby came at her, as expected, reaching for what Scarlette suspected were her hoop earrings. She didn't give her the time but let fly with a fist to the jaw. As Ruby skidded across the deck, Scarlette removed the earrings and handed them to Shelly. Ruby got back up and Scarlette sighed. The only way to end this was to knock her out, or make her cry.

"I have to ask," Scarlette began. "Why do you powder your face so often? Trying to hide your blotted complexion?"

"This perfectly pale face?" she snapped, taking a jab at Scarlette with her knife. "At least I don't look like a bloody Indian."

"I am a bloody Indian, my little racist bitch-hog, but I am proud of it. Why, also, are you complaining about your petticoats when you never wear them anyways? You whore yourself out so often that there really is no need, eh?"

The men began chuckling at that, some of them knowing it to be true.

"Better than having nothing," she snapped. "I can have all the love I want in the world … yet you, a married woman, fettered, are on this ship without your husband. Lonely thing."

"I've got all I want in that category, luv," she told her, quite condescending. "Now, stop bothering me, or I'll really hurt you."

"I don't believe you can," the persistent blonde snapped. Scarlette opened her mouth to argue and suddenly realized that Ruby wanted her to inflict pain. She wanted to be hurt. Scarlette turned to Morgan while still speaking to Ruby.

"It's not that I can't hurt you," she enunciated carefully. "It's that I won't. What are the punishments on this ship if an outsider injures an insider? On _the Pearl_, it was as the crew saw fit, a voting system."

"Here, it is by choice of the injured," Jericho answered. Morgan's eyes widened and he looked at Ruby, slightly amazed.

"You're doing this on purpose? Why?" He stood over her and shouted down. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"She is your prisoner, Morgan," Ruby told him, as if that fact had escaped him. "Do _not _let her control you or the crew. Or you too will fall under Captain Jack Sparrow's power, and that is something I know you don't want."

Scarlette started laughing in the background while Ruby pretended to faint. Morgan touched her face and shook his head. He knew she was faking it. He stood up and looked around the deck. "I would like four men to volunteer for something."

"What is this something?" Mullins asked warily.

"You'll find out. It's a compromise. One that hardly everyone will agree with, but as best as can be done."

…

"God dammit! You aren't locking me in there! You'll regret it, I swear." Scarlette was being dragged by Jericho, Cob, and McMutton towards the cabin door. Morgan's idea was to lock Scarlette away for awhile and let Ruby free on deck, then switch after a while. This way, the two women wouldn't kill each other. And, he had the added advantage of knowing where Scarlette was for days at a time.

Of course, he'd have to sleep like the normal crewmen, on the deck, or in a hammock. It just depended on who was feeling generous.

He would have to do something about the rebelling Sparrow first. The four lucky volunteers had cleaned out the cabin of all Ruby's superfluous articles to make room for the switch. Scarlette would have destroyed everything. This way, Ruby got to keep her junk for as long as she could hide it from the men.

Morgan pushed through the crew and grabbed a hold of Scarlette, pulling her up the rest of the way and maneuvering her through the door. He closed it behind him and released her.

"I do not like the idea of being locked up here, Morgan," she told him rather heatedly. "This is all fixable. You can just toss her overboard and fire a gunshot. _The Dauntless_ will pick her up. Let the British navy deal with the little bitch. Norrington'll have a blast."

"Yes, well, there are a few problems that go with that demand," he told her, leaning against the wood of the wall. "You are, as she said, my prisoner, whether you act it or not, and she is my friend. I cannot toss her overboard. One, she would feel betrayed, and that means she'd probably spill everything to your pal, Norrington. Two; that would mean I wouldn't have a reason to keep _you _under wraps." He smiled slightly at her.

"Norrington is not my _pal_. And you think having me locked in here gives you control?" She laughed aloud. "Obviously, you have not done _all _your research."

He shrugged ambiguously. "I've heard stories about you. I know as soon as I lock this door, you'll scour the room for weapons and the next head to poke into this room, be

it hostile, will no longer be attached to the shoulders it rode in on."

She gave him a skeptical look. "She is not a nice person. Why is she your friend? You can do _so _much better."

He shrugged again. "Is that supposed to change my mind about locking you up? I don't need her alive, but I don't need you sticking me with another Moses' Law doubled on your back again. That is something I cannot overrule by the Articles of Piracy."

"You know," she spoke. "Passing it down from Barbossa, to Elizabeth, to _the Pearl_'s crew, to Jack, to me, I say, _you're a pirate_. Nothing but your own will dictates you. If she wants to have me whipped bloody, take a vote. Whatever happens amongst the ranks will give you your answer. You are the captain, not her. I doubt she knows anything but violence in the way of controlling a person. No, not quite. Seduction. The power of a body is a strong thing on the weaker minds."

He only shook his head. "I don't know why I even brought her with me. All she does is cause unrest. She's always wanting something, and expecting to get it, to almost no price at all. What she offers is something easy to find. Sheikh Abu's girls are open season … but they are satellites for his power. Each time one of them makes a … conquest, so to speak … he gains power. Ruby does not have this side effect."

"Ah," Scarlette grimaced. "It is as I said. Don't cater to her. She will go away eventually when she realizes she can no longer get what she wants."

The floor moved suddenly. Scarlette stared down at the dark wood, too dark a red to be redwood. The ship was moving, and not just with the water.

"It hasn't been fed in a few days," Morgan explained. "We've been getting freak flashes all day. The sails will suddenly become visible."

"How do you know?" she asked.

"The ships," he pointed, one in front and one behind. "They send up shots whenever they see something."

"Ah," she nodded, electing not to tell him that Jack knew about the ships invisible capabilities. "I suppose I must feed the … thing again."

"I would wait until nightfall," Morgan spoke. "That way the crew will be out of the way. Only female blood can feed it, but that doesn't stop it from feeding on the nearest meat."

"Meat? Aren't the men and women of your crew more than meat? Not to mention my friends? I don't want the other supposed hostages to be fed upon either."

"I know, but to the ship, it matters not."

"What is a warrior's stone?" she asked randomly.

"A what?"

"A Warrior stone."

"Is this a trick question?"

"Not really. It's one of the ingredients to the damn door or whatever for _Langue de Serpent_."

"Oh, then he already has it."

"What? What do you mean, he already has it? He doesn't know what it is."

"Oh, he'll figure it out eventually." Morgan smiled and closed the door, locking it from the outside and hiding the key discreetly on his person. He turned to his crew and smiled. There was a bang on the door behind him as Scarlette spent her anger.

…

Jack paced on the deck of _the Pearl_. Night had come and he could visibly discern not one but two braces of lights. _The Necromancer _was visible. They were most likely to land before dawn and Jack knew that, if visible, _The Necromancer _would not sail into port but rather flounder in the bay, waiting. And who knew what the white ship was after. Norrington could legally seize him and drag him back to Port Royal. The question was, was he after Jack, or the treasure?

Claudia and Lizzy were talking rapidly. "This is awfully different."

"What do you mean?" Lizzy asked.

"Remember when we first came to this time? We were split very differently. I think the only normality to this splitting is the fact that Robin is with Elizabeth. Those two were basically in the same company throughout the last adventure. Ryo was always with Jack, whether she liked it or not, lucky girl. I got stuck with Diana. The Oregon girls are all split up. Heather's with us, and Kristin's still in Port Royal."

"Do you really think," Heather commented from her place in the rigging. "That, knowing Sean and Tony and knowing Kristin and Chelsea are with them, that they are still in Port Royal? I bet they're stowed away."

"On what ship?" Kami exclaimed. "They haven't surfaced on this one yet and the British navy punishes a stow away by death. Or at least, that's what I've heard."

"They do that in the 21st century?" Lizzy asked. "I would have thought that they would jail them."

"No," Kami contradicted. "I sell old artifacts and things in a shop in London. I do know a bit about history, thank you very much."

"Well, I just assumed that if you came from the future, there might be some things that have changed since I lived there." Lizzy shrugged, not meaning any harm but defending herself against Kami's somewhat condescending tone.

"Check that out," Claudia pointed back at the ships. "I haven't seen that in a long time."

"The fog is getting thicker," Heather said with a smile, moving her and about in a particularly substantial wisp of fog.

"Aye, that it is," a gloomy Gibbs agreed, limping over to where the girls stood. "If that rat wants to follow this ship, he'd better get movin' or we'll be leavin' 'im in the dark, Norrington too."

"Is that good or bad?" Claudia asked, rubbing her bare arms.

"Well, it's a bit o' both. We'll have lost 'em, but he's got Mrs. Turner, Mrs. Topher, and Mrs. Sparrow on board. I understand that they're not the weakest of women, but three against an entire crew is not good odds."

"Well, that don't mean shit," Kami disagreed. "If you hurt enough of them, they'll leave you alone. Most of the time."

"Well, that was certainly true for Scarlette on board Barbossa's ship," Jack added, joining them as well. "She shot quite a few of them, six kills if I remember, in her first go. They may have rushed her had she not locked herself in the cabin."

"I remember that story," Claudia started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Lizzy asked absently.

"Don't you remember?" Claudia exclaimed, rubbing her hands together.

"You know I have a terrible memory and that was like, over ten years ago!"

"She pointed and shouted, '_Look! A pelican_!' And they all _looked_!"

"Well, that shows how stupid pirates are," Heather cracked. Gibbs and Jack turned and looked at her. She shrugged nervously. "How stupid _most_ pirates are. Not you guys. I don't know if you'd do well on the SAT's but you can tell if a man is lying in a matter of seconds."

"What's the Ess-ay-tees?" Gibbs asked. Heather snorted and buried her face in her sleeve, helpless with laughter. Jack was smiling slightly.

"What? What did I say?" Gibbs asked.

"You set yourself up for that one, man," Jack muttered, slapping him on the shoulder. He left the area, walking briskly towards the stern, his coat flowing behind him.

"Ah, well … dammit, Jack!" Gibbs got up and followed. Lizzy had been giggling the entire time and tears were flowing down her white cheeks. She lived in the Caribbean and still she refused, or rather her skin refused to take a tan. Claudia and Kami, both being of Hispanic descent, or at least partially as was Kami, took well to the sun. Heather was just getting pink. Jack was tanned beautifully as usual and the rest of the crew was as any seafaring man would be. Tanned and weathered.

"Mary Mother of Parmesan!" Gibbs shouted. "Look!"

Everyone looked towards the stern where the shout had come from. Gibbs was hanging off the side rigging, an astonished look on his face.

A loud, hair-raising screech filled the air, followed by a cannon blast.

"What the blazes are they doing?" Jack asked fruitlessly. Everyone looked back but no one could quite see what was going on in the darkness.

…

[Ten minutes earlier]

Morgan entered the cabin and promptly felt the backwash of a knife flying past him. Scarlette pulled out a sword she'd found and readied herself. "Bring it, if you dare. Let's go, tubby!"

"Bring what?"

"It's a figure of speech. It means, fight me. I dare you."

"Not now. We need to feed the ship, so," he waved a hand and pointed. "Put the sword away. And don't call me tubby."

"I don't want to feed the ship. And I certainly don't want to put this blade down. Not with you in the room."

"Fine. Sheath or hold it for all I care, just come outside and help feed this ship. It's beginning to get restless. And if the restlessness grows too much, your friends may get munched on as well. So get out here!"

She put her sword away reluctantly and followed hesitantly, looking around at the night sky. She glanced towards the bow and noticed the accumulating fog. "You do realize that _The Black Pearl _generates its own mist, do you not?" she asked of Morgan, who was traveling towards the bow as well. They stood at the bow and gazed out at _the Pearl _and its swirling mass of miasma, following the ship like a living train. "When it's in streamline winds, the fog is shed off its hull."

"What's your point?" he asked, waving a hand. The ropes seized her and she found herself swinging through the air, once again. He lowered himself onto the thin plank swing, facing the figurehead, which looked extra hostile that night.

"I don't want to be out here," she told him, gripping the ropes. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"What were you saying before?" he asked, reaching for her. "About _the Pearl _making its own fog."

"You might lose her by morning," she answered, hanging onto the ropes tightly. "_The Black Pearl _is still the fastest ship in the Caribbean, even if it is not the hardest to see."

He grabbed onto one of her ropes and swung her over to him. He pulled her over his legs before she could protest and balanced, letting the ropes fall away from the swing. He pulled out his knife and grabbed her hand, slicing across the first scratch.

"You know what to do," he told her over her shoulder. He held onto her waist as she stretched towards the figurehead.

"Can it see me?" she asked hesitantly, pulling back slightly.

"Maybe," he answered. "I don't really know. Hurry though. It knows you're here and it can sense the blood close at hand."

"All right," she took a deep breath and let it out quickly, wiping her hand across the teeth of the figurehead. It moved more quickly this time, grazing her hand with its teeth, tearing against her hand. Its eyes blazed red and smoke rose from its salt-caked jaws. She shouted and leaned back, nearly toppling Morgan. He put a hand out to the creature and began shouting. Nothing he was saying made a difference.

It let out a screech and partially separated from the bow with a tumult of creaking noises, reaching for them, or rather, reaching for Scarlette. The plank swing swayed violently and Morgan lost his grip on Scarlette. She crashed into the ocean to the right of the ship. The swing broke loose and he fell to the left.

He, of course, still had some control over the ship. Scarlette was on her own in the water, the fog hovering over the water. He managed to call a rope and get himself to the deck. By this time, Scarlette was floundering twenty feet behind the ship. The Navy's ship shot off a cannon and Morgan looked behind him. The figurehead had separated completely from the bow and had loomed up, partially blocking to moon. Its silhouette against the great white disk was terrifying as it screeched.

"_Madre de Dios_," he whispered in his mother's tongue.

…

"Fire at the thing, for God's sake!" Norrington shouted, his face reddening. The Navy could see the show and what they could see was not happy. Giant skeletons are not something they are trained to handle, even on a theoretical scale.

"It's gone, sir!" a tall officer reported.

"Gone? What do you mean gone?"

"Just vanished. I don't understand it."

Norrington pulled his spyglass out with jerky movements. There was a definite wake but no ship. Norrington could see the mist cloud forming about _the Pearl _but other than that, there was no creature and no ship between them.

There was a bit of shouting however, getting closer it seemed. Loud female shouting. He may have been hallucinating, but there was something vaguely familiar about the voice riding on the night air.

"Sparrow," he whispered. He ran to the bow and shouted out. "Scarlette?"

And listening to the wind, he heard it again. "Help!"

He shouted to her again and she stopped. "Norrington?"

"Where are you?"

"Where the hell do you bloody think I am? Bloody wanker, I swear!"

Norrington, feathers ruffled uncomfortably, ordered the men to let down a dinghy. "Scoop up Mrs. Sparrow and we'll listen to what light she has to spill on this mad chase."

The dinghy was lowered, filled with an officer and two sailors and they rowed to where Scarlette floundered in her leather.

"Finally, bloody navy is good for somethin' at least." She paddled towards the small boat, the water lapping against the hull and hitting her in the face.

"Good evening, Mrs. Sparrow," the officer greeted through clenched teeth. He seized her arm and began to pull her over the edge. Her eyes suddenly grew wide. The officer stopped pulling her and backed up as she rose above the water level. He glanced to her legs and what he saw reminded him of the stories the veteran officers had told him. These were stories of the invulnerable skeletal pirates of Barbossa's crew. For she sat on the shoulders of a mere skeleton with bits of hair and clothing sticking wetly to its infrastructural body.

It wasn't the figurehead, but water rotted zombies lose flesh faster than land rotted ones.

Obviously, she hadn't expected this any more than the officer and his sailors had. "Retreat!" The officer shouted. Scarlette fell over backwards into the sea, wind milling her arms the entire time. She hit the surface with a loud splash and the creature submerged, carrying her with it.

…

Morgan stood at the stern of the ship and held his arms in the air. Her blood had sealed the spell but that was not all it had done. The figurehead had bitten her, opening a more substantial wound, giving way to more powerful potential on Morgan's part. He called the power gathering with the spilt blood and shoved it into the waves, searching for what he related to best; the dead.

"Ah, lucky me. There had been a wrecking close by, once upon a time. Rise, dead sailors. Rise and do my bidding. By the blood spilled from her hand, rise and answer my call."

He felt the crew far below, waking from their eternal sleep and climbing through the thick sand of the ocean floor. He felt, as if it were his own hands clawing through the murk, the sand falling from their limbs, the weeds pulling free of them thickly. They rushed to the surface and broke through in groups, ghastly faces, all rotted beyond recognition.

He shrugged. "I never was good with water rot. Sorry you aren't more ... complete. Find her and bring her to me. Alive." He waved his hand at the zombies, with their dead fish eyes.

They submerged once more and through _The Necromancer_'s considerable wake, another backwash of current could be discerned.

Morgan heard the officer's shout a few minutes later and smiled. He knew when Scarlette was seized. The only problem lay in the fact that the zombies traveled under water. "Rise above the surface. Let her breathe."

The order was not filled. Zombies just aren't that intelligent.

"Faster, faster," he willed repeatedly. The crew of his ship had run beneath decks to get away from the prowling figurehead. It stalked the deck behind him like a great man, stripped down to the very bones. It watched with a unique interest, a deadly intelligence in its red eyes.

The zombies began to scale the hull, the leader sporting a limp, leather clad Scarlette over its shoulder. It laid the woman on the deck and she immediately began coughing, spitting water up from her lungs and curling into a tight ball. Her hand continued to bleed onto the deck. The thing behind Morgan gave a mewling sound, all too similar to a great hungry cat.

Morgan knelt and dipped his hand into the running blood, turning and flinging it back upon the thing. It squealed in delight, vibrating happily, making the deck move beneath it.

He did the same to the waiting zombie pirates. "Return to your places beneath the water. Go back, and be at peace with the sea." He spun around. "And I compel thee to return to the bow as well." He flung more blood at the figurehead and it scuttled away, climbing over the bow and seemingly disappearing. Morgan felt the life leave it and flow back into the ship itself. Leaks below decks suddenly stopped. Sails filled with the Caribbean trade winds and everything became calm, once again.

"Scarlette. Scarlette, are you all right? Answer me. Scarlette?"

"It's Mrs. Sparrow to you," she coughed again but didn't open her eyes. "I can't move my arm."

He grabbed her wrist tentatively and bent her arm at the elbow, the blood flowing a bit too steadily for such a shallow bite. "Does this hurt?"

"No, I just can't feel it. It's completely numb."

"Well, that's a bit of a relief," he answered. "No one has ever been bitten by the demon before."

"Are you insane?" She sat up and opened her eyes. "I can't feel my bloody arm! I might have tetanus or some other malady no one has a cure for in this era!" She shut her eyes again and put her free hand to her head.

"Calm your voice, wench. Hold still," he pulled out a flask of some liquor or other and poured the contents on her hand. Her already closed eyes squeezed tighter and she bit her bottom lip. "What the hell do you have in there? Bacardi? Rubbing alcohol?"

He stared at her face but without the eye contact, his dirty look meant nothing. He lifted her up like a child and began to carry her.

"Put me down, I can walk for myself." She shoved at him, opening her eyes slowly. The whites were shot with red. He allowed her to set her feet on the deck and watched while she staggered towards the railing. She mounted the first step up to the middle deck and slid to the planks of the floor, curling up at the foot of the staircase. "Something isn't right. I think I'll sleep here tonight."

"No," he pulled her up roughly and she lost it right then and there, puking on the deck, mostly liquid. He let her fall to the deck, propped up by her left arm, retching until there were dark spots in the liquid. There was a problem there. No one puked up blood after a swim in the ocean, especially one as experienced as she should have been.

He looked towards the bow suspiciously, wondering what the hell had happened. Scarlette had finished and was sniffling. She had vomited hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Even as weak as she had been before, and of course even worse for wear now, she gripped the post and pulled herself with her left arm to her feet. She turned to Morgan.

"As much as I hate owing you anything, I must say, for practicality of the situation, that I will not make it up those stairs to the mid-deck."

"Are you asking for help?" he posed.

"Shut up."

"All right, up we go."

Ten minutes later, Scarlette was blessedly cataleptic, her hand bandaged and cleansed, not in that order. Morgan, though unwilling to admit it, was terrified to leave the room. He'd never heard of a reaction to anything that was quite like this. If she were to die …. He just hoped she would recover. If Jack found out that Scarlette had died while on Morgan's ship … this would not end very well at all.

…

Below decks, the men and women, still too terrified to venture above, were getting, once again, horribly drunk. Jericho was up on the table singing a song slightly familiar to a cute little tune in the 21st century.

"_L_, is for the way you laughed at me. _O_, is for the other man you see. _V_, is very, very, extra naughty, baby. _E_, is even more than any rich man could afford, and Love, to you is just a game for two. Love, to you is when men bid for you. I loved you, my heart, you took it. Dropped it down, stomped, crash, you broke it. Love, was made for pirates too."

He was applauded tremendously. (I'll have you know, the actual 'actor' for Jericho made up his own parody to this song along these lines. I just took the idea and made up my own words. He knows, he knows. Don't sue!)

"How did you know about that song?" Robin asked excitedly, being the only semi future girl in the room.

"I made it up," Jericho slurred. He held his liquor well enough for his size, but even pirates have a limit.

"So that's where it came from," she wondered. "How weird. I've heard a similar song, only … more … pro love."

"Oh, it's pro love, just not with the woman who inspired it," he told her.

"Anyone in particular?" Jukes asked.

"Nope. I hate bein' single," Jericho took another swig.

"You're not alone in that," Bert toasted. "To all the single men on the ship. Which includes the majority."

"Well, you're all young," Shelly stated slightly nervous. "I'm sure you just haven't found the right girl yet."

"I've got me woman," Cob nodded, smiling. Mullins coughed next to him and he flew up the wall, landing in Klow's arms. Mullins stared laughing.

"Yeah, yeah, rub it in, y'old Jamaican," Mullins snorted, drinking a bit more.

"Got somtin' against me, eh?" Cob exclaimed, climbing out of Klow's lap. Klow shrugged and took another drink, passing out. Sheikh Abu sighed and went over to him. He yanked him up by his shirt and slapped him roughly across the face. Klow opened his eyes and smiled.

"Lemme sleep s'more, 'kay?" he flopped down on the deck and his snores filled the hold. Sheikh Abu smirked.

"It seems to be moustache time, once again."

"Hey," McMutton asked. "How come the ladies aren't drinkin' any?"

"I don't drink around strange men," Elizabeth replied. Robin gave her a look. "Well, not in years, and we were stuck on an island. Stop throwing that back in my face."

"You were stuck on an island with someone? And you were drinking?" Starks seemed very interested in this topic. "Who was it? Did he kiss ya?"

"No …" Elizabeth seemed genuinely uncomfortable. She shifted her shoulders and moved away from the inquisitive men, somewhat hiding behind Robin's shoulder. Perhaps she should have moved away from Robin as well.

"She was on an island with Jack Sparrow and they got drunk and started singing. He passed out before anything could happen," Robin indulged. "That was a bit before Scarlette and I met her."

There was a strange little silence, filled only with the scratching of rodent claws as a rat ran for its life. Shelly had been sitting in a fairly calm state until she'd heard that noise. She shot up from her seat on a cannon bench and screamed bloody murder. She picked up a sword and started running about.

"Where is it? I'm going to bloody slaughter the little demon! He'll regret ever crossing the path of Shelly Perry!"

She became so frenzied in her search for the rodent that the crew emptied from the hold, cautiously looking about the deck for any signs of the crazy figurehead.

"I don't know why we keep coming back to this ship, which is more likely to kill us than another crew," Bert muttered.

"What's that noise?" Jericho asked, looking around.

There was a faint sound of squishing liquid coming from near the bow. They turned and saw to their relief but instant curiosity, Morgan mopping down the area near the foot of the stairs.

"What're ya doin'?" McMutton asked. "I though ye were Captain o' this ship? Not some … mate a swabbing decks, not that I'm complainin'."

Morgan just glanced at him, his eyes almost white under the strange light from the moon. The fact that Scarlette and Ruby knew he was nothing but a creampuff under pressure made no difference to the crew's thoughts of him. To them, that was quite the look.

"Where's Scarlette?" Elizabeth asked from within the group. She and Robin pushed their way to the front.

He just shook his head. "She's in the cabin."

Elizabeth moved to the fore and glared. "We want to see her."

"No. Absolutely not." The last thing he needed was the other prisoners to get the idea that they had nothing to live for. If they were to end up like Scarlette, they would begin to rebel just as she had, and Morgan did not want any more women aboard like Scarlette, or worse, the fiery brunette that had appeared and vanished earlier. Not even Scarlette had beaten his crew, hand to hand, not that she had tried. She hadn't needed to do what Kami had done.

"What's wrong?" Jericho asked, picking up on the tone of the moment.

"Nothing, nothing's wrong. Can't a man swab his own deck without a million questions?"

"A man, yes," Robin pointed out. "But a captain, with command over nearly twenty men, no. What are you mopping up anyway?"

She bent to see it and caught a whiff of the scent. Then she saw the blood, made black by the darkness. Here eyes widened and she stood, staring at Morgan in astonishment. She broke for the cabin door, racing up the stairs before Morgan could stop her.

"Ryoko! Open the door! Hello?" Robin turned the knob and found it unlocked. Morgan had completely forgotten about locking the door, just concerned about cleaning up the mess and hiding the sickness from the crew.

Robin stood over the bed and didn't quite understand what she saw. Scarlette's skin was frighteningly pale, even down her bare arms. She still wore the shirt but the coat had been draped over a chair. There was a bandage on her hand that seeped a little blood but seemed stable. Her hair fluttered in the breeze coming from the open door but other than that, she was lifeless. Her eyes did not open and her chest did not rise.

"What have you done to her?" Robin asked angrily, surprised that her voice did not shake. Morgan shut the door and locked it, not allowing for any others to get into the room. He walked up beside Robin and looked down.

"No one has ever been bitten by the ship," he attempted to explain. "Not unless they were going to be killed anyway. She still lives, but for how much longer, I cannot say. She breathes, her heart beats, but at such a pace as that I cannot believe she lives. One thing is for certain, she is not dead. I would know it if she were."

Robin turned slowly to him and he saw utter rage in her eyes. "What are you?"

He did not offer any other movement but the focus of his eyes. "I am a necromancer. I control the dead."

Robin immediately grew angry as a wildebeest with its legs in a gator's maw. "You control the dead. Then you don't care if she dies! You'll be able to order her around, you bastard."

"No," he answered. "I do not want her to die. That would defeat the purpose of having her as a hostage. If she's dead, then what incentive does Jack have to find my treasure? None. He won't go along just for you and the other woman, if you know what I mean. No one tells Jack Sparrow what to do unless they have something over him. I won't let her die."

"Well, you haven't been doing the best job of keeping her alive, either," Robin snapped. "Do you even know what's wrong with her?"

"No," he answered shamefully.

"Well, then we need to find a doctor and fast, and maybe someone who knows stuff about this sort of magic since you apparently don't know what the hell is going on."

He looked at her. "You are incredibly cruel at times, you know."

"This isn't me being cruel," she growled at him. "This is me being righteously indignant on the part of one of my best friends."

…

Any bets? Will she live, will she die. Do we want her to die? I bet some people do, mostly Jack lovers. Kill the bitch off and he'll be free for other people. Mwuahahaha!

Okay, quote time.

(Marchie!) Sean Wilson-Luckinbill, who else?

(Whoop-di-fuckin'-doo.) That would be Kami

(Suckable toes.) Shelly, all the way. Don't ask.

(Holy God! It's a hand!) Scarlette, after watching Crossing Jordan.

(I hate robbing banks!) Oooh boy. GO ahead and guess this one. Hint, it's not an original character. This is one of PotC; Curse of the Black Pearl actors. One of the main four, too.

Well, I can't give you a page count because this isn't an even number chapter but I think we broke 1C. I'll also be doing a scene for Regional acting with Jericho from Cats. Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer! Nifty!

Mungojerry; Does 'is mean Oi 'afta dance wit' ya now?

Jack; Only if you want to.


	7. Chapter VI: Friend or Foe

Well, it is now 5:51 am. July 11th. I'm pulling an all nighter. I don't know why. I just felt like it, all right. Can't you tell I'm cranky?

Well, I suppose it's time for quotes.

"Poodle man. Hee, hee! Now I can get him!" This had me spitting up Arizona iced tea all over the carpet and nearly wetting my pants.

"I am all seeing." "I disagree." "_CLICK_!" "Bastard hung up on me again!"

"Back up! Oh, he'll bite you. Don't believe me then and I'll laugh when he's down there tearing you to little pieces and eating your bloody bits!"

"Chris is dead! Why! Why!"

"This is my $500 outfit."

"She says this is my 'Elizabeth look'."

"Tell Carlos I'm not dead!"

"You have Bigfoot working for you?"

Wow, that's a lot. I don't want to put any more up. You have 8, technically 9. The CLICK one is worth two.

Mungojerry; 'Ow come Oi don't get a quote?

Jack; Well … you kind of did. You'll see, in about twenty or so pages.

**Chapter VI—Friend or Foe**

Morning. It came without a sound. Robin opened her eyes to a dark room below decks. She sat up from the hammock graciously given her by Mullins. The light of the sun leaked through the grate above.

She jumped out of the hammock and ran up the stairs to emerge on a deck washed by brilliant sunlight. The men were working steadily but _the Pearl _was nowhere in sight. The Navy ship was hanging about, wondering where to sail.

Robin climbed the staircase to the cabin and knocked on the door. A few seconds later and an obviously tired Morgan opened the door. Robin pushed past him and he shut the door.

Robin moved slowly, anxiously up to the bed, wondering if she would find her friend dead.

Scarlette laid there, her eyes closed. Her lids were dark, a greenish grey color that was from both her condition and the makeup. Her skin and hair looked more golden today as opposed to white and seaweed green as the night before had merited. She was breathing more visibly this morning, her chest rising and falling like one in sleep as opposed to comatose.

"She's been improving all morning," he reported. "At about four, her skin just started absorbing color and as the sun rose, so did her life, it seemed."

"What time is it now?"

"About nine-ish."

"How can you tell? There are no clocks on the ship that work."

He pointed. Scarlette had a watch around her wrist, most likely picked up from her short trip to the future.

"Do you think she'll get up anytime soon?"

"Most likely," he answered, getting up. "I'm going to relieve Mullins from helm duty. Since you two are such good friends, you get to watch her now." He left the room and Robin was left to stare at Scarlette's sallow face.

Morgan glanced around, noting sourly that _the Pearl _was not present. He noticed however that the naval Man o' War was still around and had taken off to the southwestern cardinal. He figured to follow it and see where it took him.

…

Norrington shrugged. "_The Pearl _is gone. I don't know where they could have gone. Damn Jack Sparrow and his fancy ship." He squeezed the helm angrily.

"Sir," Gillette announced with some relish. "We've got rats."

"Well, loose that cat then. That's why we have one."

Gillette smiled "No, I mean bigger rats."

Norrington looked over and squinted. Gillette was winking as if something was supposed to be kept secret.

"Would you just tell me, Lieutenant instead of dancing about?"

"I'll do better, sir. I'll show you. If you'll follow me, sir."

"This better be good, Gillette." Norrington followed Gillette downwards, allowing one of the sailors to take over.

Once below, in the bilge deck, Gillette peeled back an old burlap shroud and showed off four of our favorite characters.

"Sea monkey!" Tony spoke. (One expects to hear 'stole my money,' right?)

"Master Chief's underwear," Sean answered. They were dead asleep but still managed to twist everything. "Tim Curry in a tutu."

"I've got a lovely bunch o' coconuts, a diddly dee!" Tony

"There they are a standin' in a row, bum, bum, bum." Sean

"Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head." Tony

"A flick of the wrist," Sean

"A twist of the hips," Tony

"And do it all again." Both of them chorused together. You'd have sworn they were awake. Chelsea and Kristin had woken up and were staring in fright at the soldiers.

"Get up!" Gillette shouted. Norrington gave him a look of utter exasperation. He shrugged as the two wackos woke and sat up in horror.

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to clap you all in irons and keelhaul you." Gillette growled with obvious pleasure. Norrington looked at the man, a tad disturbed.

"Parley!" Kristin exclaimed, putting her hands up.

"That doesn't work here for two reasons," Norrington told her. "We're not pirates, and we're not French. Put them in irons."

"Yes, sir," Gillette fetched the shackles.

"Scarlette wouldn't like this," Chelsea muttered, her purple hair tousled. "If you kill off her friends, she'll be likely to destroy your little statue."

"Highly _unlikely_," he answered. "Scarlette Sparrow drowned last night while fighting off a remnant of Barbossa's crew. Nice try."

"What?" the Oregon kids cried.

"She's dead," Gillette added bluntly. "We're chipping the Sparrow's away one by one."

"You suck!" Sean screamed. "They're not rodents."

"Take them above," Norrington ordered.

The hostages were dragged up onto the top deck and Chelsea caught a smidgeon of the conversation going around. They were talking about turning around and heading back to Port Royal.

She looked around and noticed that they were the only ship in sight. _The Pearl_ was gone and _The Necromancer _was hidden.

"Stop! Commodore Norrington!" she shouted. He strode over to her.

"If you let us free and allow us to sail with you, I'll tell you where _the Pearl _has gone."

He thought about it. "Why should I consider this?"

"The four of us were on board when Jack gave an itinerary on the voyage. The only reason we stowed away was because he didn't include us in that voyage. We know where he's bound for first.

Norrington unlocked her chains and stuck out his hand. "I give you my word that I won't harm you or your friends if you give me the location." She shook his hand and smiled.

"Unchain them first."

He did so and Sean bear hugged Chelsea. "Tortuga. One day furlough."

Norrington shouted the order and the white sailed ship took off for the pirate city of Tortuga. The Navy never went there, though they knew what it was. Norrington didn't care, however. Anything was better than going back to Port Royal and facing the Company after failing to impede another miraculous escape by Jack Sparrow.

…

Morgan kept Norrington in view, knowing that the man probably knew where Jack was headed. He had the notion in his head that the two were in league. The way he figured it, Jack was using the Commodore to catch him whenever the chance arose. How more wrong could a man be?

Well, wrong enough I suppose. Daylight lasted only until the ship moored in Tortuga, far enough from _the Pearl _that no one would notice anything should the blood wear out and close enough to take off at a moments notice, not easily said for ships.

Norrington, smart man that he was (cough) slid in right next to _the Pearl_, another reason for Morgan to stay away. Getting on to Morgan's other wrong and possibly disastrous issues … Scarlette.

She paled with the sunset and seemed to get worse as the night began. She had been doing well enough until they lost the light of the sun and no one quite knew what was going on.

Morgan shook his head and sent for one of the crew. Starks came to his call, whirling his pistol and whistling a shanty. "You rang, Cap'n? I was just about to leave, too. Lucky you caught me."

"Will you go into town and find me a doctor?"

"Aye, Cap'n. But I was really hoping to see me woman while atown.

"Oh, there'll be time for that. Just get me a doctor or something. I don't want this one to die."

"Do you want the others to die?"

"No. Just do it, all right?"

"Sure."

Starks rushed down the gangway and straight into the Faithful Bride, pub and brothel. The 'and Brothel' had been added within the last five years and was just another wooden slab nailed in place next to the first sign. He ran through the open door, skirting men and women running about. He nearly tripped over a goat that was standing just inside the doorway. Of course, he was native to Tortuga and knew the place well enough to expect such things. He knew the goat's name was Annabelle and that Nort Scumm, the owner, kept her there for a specific reason. His mother in law hated goats. She had … goat phobia.

Starks looked around and knew there would be no real sign of a doctor. As he passed a small wooden table rounded until it was a broad circle, he brushed an older woman with grey and frayed dreadlocks. She looked up at him and grabbed his arm. Her weathered hands were dark and her eyes stark white but they held a frightening light.

"Take me to her. I am a doctor."

"Uh … how did you know that I was—"

"Ask questions later. I know dese t'ings. Hurry, boy!"

"Oh … all right. This way."

"I know dat. Quickly, now!"

…

Norrington and his horde of officers and sailors docked in Tortuga ahead of _The Necromancer_. He allowed his men to take a furlough but he forbade them to drink or quarrel with the pirates. He basically told them that if they found Sparrow, they should bring him to the ship.

Eli Fomosa, officer upon the ship, adjusted his spectacles and continued reading. Norrington stepped down into the galley and stared and him skeptically.

"Come now, man," Norrington urged. "Surely you cannot still be angry with me. I did what needed to be done."

"You let the stowed away live."

"I locked them in the brig." Norrington stared at the officer.

"Why?"

"Because they gave us information. Other than their lives and food, I have given them nothing. They asked to be set free once here but I denied them that, knowing they would go straight to _the Pearl _and warn Sparrow, who might think we've lost him."

"James, you've parked this blasted ship not twenty yards from _the Pearl_. How are they not going to know we're here?"

"…"

"Didn't think of that did you, Commodore James Norrington."

"I must ask, what is ailing at you Fomosa, because you're not usually this angry."

"Well, for starters, your lieutenant is a complete idiot."

"You do have a point, but I cannot take him from that position without incentive. His unintelligence is not enough to merit him a discharge."

Eli put his book on the floor and straightened up. "Do I have permission to give you incentive?"

"What you speak of can land you a trip from the rope to the earth."

"It isn't mutiny."

"It is if I'm against it."

Eli nodded and returned to his book. He turned a page and eyed his Commodore. "I just think you would be better off if your second in command was worth more than him."

"Monetary value has nothing to do with what we do, Fomosa."

"I was not speaking of money," he answered. "A man's worth is not measured in numbers, sir."

…

Libussa was made to stand on the dock with her back to the harbor while Starks ran and got Morgan. Morgan sighed, knowing he had to do something. He crossed his fingers and hoped the doctor had strong ties to death. From what he heard of her from Starks, she was powerful in some way. It might be enough.

He walked down the gangway. He noticed no one that looked remotely doctor-like. There was a woman with a red-orange bandana in her hair facing the town. He tapped her shoulder.

"Are you the doctor?" he asked.

"Jou hab a serious problem on jour hands, young man. I don't just mean de fact dat jou've kidnapped Scarlette Sparrow, eider."

"Oh. Starks gets whipped tomorrow for telling you anything like that. And yeah, I think she's dying. I don't want that to happen."

"Well, let's go take a look. Show me where to put me foot."

"Will you wear a blind fold?"

"I know all abou' jour damned ship. Take me up dere, boy. Foolish youth."

"Well, fine. Step there. Good. Now follow me."

Libussa crossed the barrier into the ship easily and marched straight to the cabin. She shooed Starks out of the room but kept Morgan.

"Do not punish him, Morgan," she told him. "He didn't tell me a t'ing. I am clairboyant t'ru touch. He passed by and brushed me and I knew. Touchin' jou and I know eben more. I haben't had any visions pertainin' to de future in jour category but I do know more abou' jour mind dan you do, I dare say. Jou don't know a t'ing abou' jour own psyche."

"Do too," he defended weakly. She placed a hand on Scarlette's forehead and gasped. "What! What is it? Is she dead?"

"My, jou do worry abou' jour enemy. She'll be fine when I'm done wit' her. Boy, if jou let dis sit t'ru anoder night, jou'll hab more control o'er her dan jou'd want. I'm guessin' de ship got in a bite, eh?"

"Yes. What does that mean?"

"Well, technically jour ship is an undead entity, a demi-god powered by necromancy and Deat' itself. Make no mistake, Deat' is an entity. Jour power originates from him. In anoder age, before, when de ancients were abou', jou would hab been a soldier ob Deat', but dose are old wars and o'er for de time bein'."

Morgan fixed a tired look on her. "I understand what you are telling me but how did _this _happen?" He motioned towards the bed and the unconscious Sparrow.

"Now, certain types ob undead hab contagious bites, jes," Libussa continued, looking at him with annoyance. "She is turnin' into a human bersion ob what dis ship is. Anoder night or two and jou would hab almost inclusive control o'er her. Howeber, once complete, de process is not rebersible. So, as much as de idea ob control appeals to jou, dis is not a good idea. I will not allow it, anyways. Come wit' me into town so dat I may get a few t'ings and I will cure her tonight once I hab prepared de solution."

Morgan nodded, knowing how deep he'd be in should Scarlette not be returned to Jack in the best condition. Funny, that a supposedly evil pirate captain, alias, the Black Thief, was worried about getting his archrival's honey back in good shape. Once he received the treasure, of course.

He followed Libussa down into Tortuga and the night continued.

…

Jack was walking briskly towards the middle of town where Anamaria's father lived. Kwan Lyun was not a man to be messed with. He was of Chinese descent whereas Anamaria's mother had been a runaway African slave from a plantation owned by a man named Johnson. Her mother had died of cholera when she was younger and the male influence, plus living in Tortuga, led to an almost inevitable path to piracy or related occupations. Some of these included smuggling, forging, and whoring.

Lyun responded on the third knock, opening the door reluctantly. He lived by himself save for an abnormally large cat named Yo, which in some translations means "Floater", and a ferret given him by a local trader named Tonto. The ferret had come with the name.

Lyun was an original man, with his thin moustache and trailing goatee. His hair was still black as night and kept up in a traditional cue down his back. He wore a green silk shirt that looked a bit worse for wear with white cuffs and a standup collar with the little knot and eye buttons. His black pants ended at the mid calf area and were tucked into rounded brown boots.

There were several rings gracing his old hands. Truthfully, he was over sixty, at the time being quite a feat. However, his hair did not fade even a bit. He had a total of three silver hairs, which he braided separate, allowing for them to fall on their own, on silver strand in a sea of ebony.

"_Ni hao_," he answered. Jack nodded and entered, bowing his head and removing both his hat and his boots and leaving them at the door. Lyun took his coat as well, but only upon his own insistence. Jack wasn't in a mood to relinquish the coat.

"Well, now. Captain Jack Sparrow. A basic Tai Pan of the infamous _Black Pearl_. They fear your name here. I hear it all the time. Guess what Jack did this time! Interesting rumors. I heard one that you and this younger boy were fighting over Scarlette."

Jack scratched his head. "Is this a recent rumor? Because it isn't exactly true. There was the Frenchman that refused to give up until she consented to dance with him at a certain gathering in Nassau port. He got a little too friendly, his only excuses being that he was French and she was "ankroyabla"."

"What?"

"I think it's actually spelled i-n-c-r-o-y-a-b-l-e, at least that's what Scarlette said. She speaks French. I guess and throw Spanish in there. Some of it works, but not enough for my comfort. Anyways, she's been kidnapped, if that makes any sense to you."

"And you want my help in getting her back?"

"Well, not exactly. Here comes the difficult part. The same blighter that took Scarlette along with a handful of others killed someone dear to us both."

Lyun blinked and let out the air in his lungs. "Anamaria?"

Jack nodded. "I feel a bit inclined to take the blame. She was attempting to help Scarlette escape when he shot her." Jack told him the rest of the story and the old man's eyes grew sad.

"No. It is not your fault in the least. Where were you at the time?"

"Running from the Navy and rescuing maidens, after I woke up, anyway. This brat can do something with his hands. He sucks all the energy out of you."

"Can he be killed? I take it that's what you came here for. To offer me the chance to get revenge?"

"Exactly right, mate. It was one of her last requests. She wanted me to tell you and let the revenge come at no ends."

"Yes. That will be very important to me. Where is your ship?"

"Harbor. It's got black sails and a woman figurehead holding a bird that's probably a dove but everyone calls a Sparrow. We didn't get around to lighting the lanterns tonight. We docked while it was still light and there was no need to light them." Jack shook his head. "I have a feeling that bastard is somewhere in Tortuga. Quite a few pirates arrived not too long after we did, about dusk, or a little after. They sit now at the pubs and in the brothels, gorging themselves on things not to be found at sea."

"Well, young men, will be … pirates."

"Not necessarily. Young men fulfill their ... needs before all else."

"As will older men. Do not declass yourself yet."

"I'm not old, Kwan Lyun. I'm more what you might call … a middle aged man I suppose."

"And Scarlette?"

"Still young."

Kwan Lyun smiled as if he had made his point. He nodded as Jack smiled slightly and put a hand to his shoulder, sighing sadly. "Let us go, Jack. We have much to do."

Kwan Lyun packed a few things and the two men set off towards _the Pearl_.

…

Morgan and Libussa made their way through the Tortuga crowd, Libussa seeming to part them with her mere presence and Morgan, a looming shadow in his long black frock coat and his pale spring green eyes and their warning glance, rimmed in a thick line of black. They passed right by Jack and Kwan Lyun. The thing that saved them from noticing each other was the sudden scream of joy.

"Jack! You're here! I knew you'd come back for me!"

Morgan had a horrible feeling that Scarlette had woken but even he, after only about a week of dealing with the crazy Sparrow woman knew her voice and it wasn't that high pitched or feminine.

Of course, this voice was not the only one to call out. The street emptied of people, all instinctively knowing that there was about to be a stampede of scantily clad women.

Morgan sunk into a doorway to watch while Libussa shook her head in disapproval. She, however, continued along her way. Jack saw the women and visibly swallowed. He whispered something to the Asian man beside him, sending him off somewhere. He spread his legs a bit, getting into a stance, and braced himself for the women that literally poured into the road from unknown openings.

They curled about the road like multicolored tops, moving so that their skirts flared out and their under things showed. Fishnets, garters, spike heels invented by the devil himself, etc. You knew they were really bad when all they had were the shoes.

At the last possible moment, Jack broke from them and ran. Unfortunately, he chose the very door in which Morgan was staked out.

Jack crashed into Morgan and they both flew through the door and into the building, which happened to be a cartographer/magistrate office. The magistrate was not there and Jack quickly barricaded the door.

"Sorry I ran you over," Jack apologized without looking. "You have no idea what those women want. Well, I suppose you do, but why me?"

"Why indeed," Morgan muttered. Jack turned around and stopped abruptly. Morgan had his pistol pointed undeniably at Jack's chest. There was no iffy chances of escape.

"Well, hello again." Jack said a bit too cheerfully for the situation. His smile was tight and nervous and the gold glinted in the darkness.

"Greetings. Have you made any progress?"

"On the treasure? I've two ingredients. What the hell is a bloody warrior stone?"

"Why are you asking me? I didn't make this shit up."

"You do know there are people out to kill you now. You're pissing people off, mate. S'not a good survival tactic."

"Your wife's one of the ones after my life," Morgan answered, smirking a bit. "How do you live with that woman? It's like … perpetually having to check on her. Unrest forever."

"Yes, well, you see … I didn't kidnap her and hold her in a cabin for days on end, which … well, I kind of did. But that was when I first met her. And technically I rescued her before I did that. Anyways, I am benign. You are malignant. I assume you've already had to confiscate weapons from her more than once?"

Morgan nodded, pistol never wavering. Jack looked at the long barrel and gave a light little smirk. He decided to bring up some subjects he was more concerned with at the moment.

"So the ship tries to _eat_ her?"

Morgan blanched. "How do you know all this?"

"Remember when she came back from the future?"

"What?"

"She vanished at some point for a length of time."

"Ah. The future?"

"About … oh, 240 years in the future. But you don't need to know any more. Well … take care. I've got a ship to get back to."

"Hold on," Morgan spoke. "I don't want you following me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, mate. I swear."

"Stop mocking me, you smartass."

"Mocking? Who, me?"

Jack was enjoying messing with the presumably powerful Morgan. He couldn't get shot. The whole point of this endeavor was that Jack would find the treasure. He couldn't do that if Morgan killed him.

Morgan realized this as well but knew if he put up the weapon, Jack had no incentive not to take him down. Morgan did not know what would happen to the ship if he died. It would probably eat everyone on it and run a rampage over the seas. Which meant Jack _did _have incentive to keep him alive.

"You can't shoot me Jack," he told him, putting the pistol up. "The ship will spare no one aboard in the event of my death. Scarlette is aboard the ship at the moment, and trapped at that. If it goes berserk now, there's no escape for her."

"In other words, we are both going to walk away from each other," Jack spoke, smiling resignedly, moving his hand away from his belt. Morgan had just noticed that Jack's hand had been there the whole time, just waiting to draw down on him. "Lucky for you, because I am not in the mood to suffer fools."

Morgan smiled as well, narrowing his eyes. "Sorry to disappoint you, Jack Sparrow."

"Captain," Jack insisted. "We are both of that status, do not forget, Morgan Maxwell. Or might it be Nick Maxwell?"

"Nope. As much as your little wife has demanded of me that name, I am sorry to say, I am not this person. In fact, I do not want to be related to Scarlette. That would be … horrid."

Jack smirked. "Sure. Well, I suppose I must be going. Move over a bit, will you. I'm not goin' out that door with all of Tortuga's finest hanging about." Jack looked around for a chair but didn't find any.

"You need a boost?" Morgan asked him.

"Oh, and you're going to give it to me?"

"Well, seeing as we have a bit of a truce for now, yes. Here."

Jack gave him a look. "And how am I to trust one such as you? I know what you are."

"The same as you, Sparrow. Get up there. I won't hurt you tonight."

"That's not much incentive for me to find your bloody treasure, boy."

"I am tempted sometimes to fight with your wife."

"All right, all right. I'm going. Don't drop me."

…

Scarlet, Gisele and several other women waited outside. The women who knew Jack personally were getting older themselves and when Morgan stepped out of the building, they were puzzled. That wasn't Jack, not by a long shot. He pointed towards town and shouted. "He went that way, out the back door. If you hurry, you can catch him."

They all ran off in the direction Morgan had sent them. He sighed and shook his head. "Well, that did nothing for me." Jack of course was headed towards the docks by rooftop.

Morgan decided to head that way as well. Libussa had all but vanished and he didn't know where to find her.

…

Scarlette blinked slowly, not really knowing where she was. She opened her eyes to the face of Libussa, who smiled a closed lip grin and nodded.

"I t'ought dat would work. Honey, jou were on jour way to becomin' a zombie."

"What?" Scarlette asked, trying to sit up. Libussa pressed her back down.

"Don't get up. Jou aren't strong enough to walk yet."

"How did you get here? I thought I was on the … Did Jack rescue me?"

"No, dear. Jou are still on Morgan's ship."

"Damn. Then we must be in Tortuga if you're here. Is Jack here? I'm getting up! I must go to him!"

"No. Jou cannot get up, and de fact dat de t'ree women on board are bein' held by seberal large men who hab been t'reatened wit' deir libes to keep dem and jou here. Jou cannot leabe dem."

"But I need to get off this ship!"

"Jou are not in shape. Stay here! I'be cured jou ob de illness but jou need to rest. Jou body has been at war for de last two days, attemptin' to dribe back de dark blood dat has entered jour system. Jou would grow stronger by day but start back down hill at night. De ship had circuitously started turnin' jou into a human version ob itself."

Scarlette shook her head. "That's a relief. I was afraid I was going to have another baby. This would be a bad place to find that out. If that was the case, I'd definitely have to find Jack."

Libussa nodded. "Not'ing so mundane, aldough I agree. Dat isn't exactly a curable situation. Oh, dere are ways, but dangerous ones."

"Not in this time, not that I'd want to," Scarlette added. "Doing so would probably kill me here anyway. I heard they give the women herbs or something."

"It works, but a bit too effectively. Sometimes de women, dey become infertile or eben lose deir libes."

Scarlette nodded. "A messy business. In the 21st century, it's much easier to avoid it before it even happens. They've got chemicals and other things."

Morgan burst into the room in a flare of energy reserved for wild animals in danger and shut it with a snap. He calmed a bit when he noticed that Scarlette was awake.

"You're up? How are you?"

"I'll be fine when you take me back to my husband."

"Speaking of which, guess whom I just ran into?"

"Jack?"

"Aye. He was being chase by a bunch of floozy whores."

"Of course. That always happens when we come here. Did he get away or was he been dragged off to a bar by the women?"

"He bloody ran into the doorway I was hiding in and knocked me over, not even realizing it was me until he'd shut and locked the door. We spoke a bit, and he left."

"He left! He didn't fight you or kill you? What the heck? _Je ne comprende pas! Quoi le baissage ? Je vais aller là-bas et tuer mon homme ! Bougez-vous _!»

"No! Madame Sparrow, stay here!" Libussa held the pirate woman down until she calmed a bit, or at least until she switched back to English.

"Okay, I don't speak French, so what did you say?" Morgan told her, slightly dumbfounded.

"What a minute," Scarlette paused, ceasing her attempts at leaving the bed. "Your name is _Le Brigande Noir_? The Black Thief, basically, but it's in French. If you don't speak it …"

If there had been enough light, Morgan might have been blushing, but his dignity held with the darkness. "Ruby made the name up."

Scarlette scoffed, crossing her arms. "Of course. Well, what I said is none of your business."

"She said, and I quote '_I don't understand! What de fuck! I'm goin' to go o'er dere and kill my man. Out of de way,'_" Libussa concluded the last with a little smile.

Morgan nodded. "Thank you, old woman. Is she cured?"

"She's fine, but I dare say dere'll be more surprises for jou," Libussa told him mysteriously. She turned to Scarlette. "Jou will be giben a gift soon, girl. And jou will meet strange powers ob de sea. Be careful dat jou not make bargains wit' some ob dem, no matter de want."

Scarlette looked at her skeptically. "Can't you ever just tell me what you see? I hate this arcane voodoo future telling stuff."

"And jou," she turned back to Morgan. "I see what is inside jou and it is somet'ing to be feared, but do not get carried away. It is not dat frightening. Also, de t'ing jou fear de most is in dis case to jour disadbantage. It is up to jou wheder to deal wit' it or banish it. I tell jou, de latter is in jour better interest. Jou will hab more to quarrel wit' if jou do not."

Morgan paled in the darkness. "How do you know these things?"

Libussa shrugged. "I jus' do. My power used to frighten me into unconsciousness, but I'be dealt wit' it."

"That's not fair," Scarlette cried, half in jest. "He understands his esoteric message. I want a new one."

Libussa chuckled, as if she were a grandmother merely speaking to her grandchildren. "No. I will not gib eider of jou any more. De future is a frightening place, and no vision is eber clear."

"Well, it's too bad I come from _hundreds _of years in the future instead of just a few," Scarlette muttered. "Then I would know."

Libussa shook her head. "I see great turmoil in jour future. De next few years … dey will be fraught wit' power and peril. Jour greatest enemies hab yet to show demselves in person … an' even dey will not remain hostile foreber. I t'ink if jou went to de near future … jou would not understand anyt'ing about jou."

"I wasn't really contemplating it," she commented with a shrug. "I just wondered what it would be like to have begun life in this time and not in the future."

Morgan was looking at her strangely. "Jack mentioned that. 240 years?"

"What? That doesn't sound right," Scarlette rolled her eyes to the ceiling and did a bit of finger counting. "245 years. I guess he was close enough. I mean, the American Revolution starts in less than ten years, only about seven or eight and that was a little over 220 … I mean, 230. Okay, I suck at math, but it's only 245. Well, technically I guess 234 because I was taken from 2003 and now it would be … 2014. Oh God! That means Johnny Depp is over 50 years old! I wonder what he looks like."

Morgan started laughing and Scarlette frowned. "What's so amusing?"

"You just rambled for two whole minutes about math, which you hate, but made sense of, more to yourself, than to us. I mean, who really cares about how many years ago or ahead it was. We don't understand what you mean when you talk about things like Revolutions that haven't happened yet, and who the hell is Johnny Depp and who cares what he looks like?"

"And jou, boy, just spent almost as long ramblin' on de fact dat she rambled for a lengt' o' time." Libussa smiled at them.

"The American Revolution is set to begin in 1776 when our forefathers … excuse me, _my_ forefathers, declared their independence from England. America is what you might call New England at the moment. You know, the colonies?"

"Are you telling me that those little babies are going to become their own country?" Morgan exclaimed. "Inconceivable!"

"Typical Brit," Scarlette commented.

"Hey," Morgan spouted. "You sound pretty British yourself."

"Well, you know what? I'm Native American, or Indian for your understanding, so there. You might argue that I was once British, but that's not even true. Well, I suppose part of half of me was. You see, my father was British, Scotts Irish, French, German, and just about everything in Europe combined. My mother was Iroquois Indian. And then there's me, the golden haired, green eyed child that turns brown in the sun and has a contra-alto voice."

"You have British, Irish, and Scottish in you? That's like breeding cats, dogs, and rats. Then you toss the bloody frogs in there. Germans are huge. How come you're so small?"

"Iroquois is a smaller tribe of Indians. I took more to my mother than to my father, who did at one point in his life clock as 6'6"."

"What? I don't understand. Six feet?"

"Oh, bloody hell. I hate the metric system. One would think ten years would have broken me but I still don't like it. He would be about … this much taller than you," she held her hands about six inches apart.

"Thank God you're not that tall," he muttered. "It's hard enough controlling you when you're this petite."

"You know, I always heard when I was in the future that women and men at this time were shorter. That much is true, for most, but I still seem to be … really short in comparison with a lot of people."

"You want to be tall, go to China," Morgan told her. "Until then, stay a dwarf. I must escort this woman back to town. I am going to lock this door."

Libussa stood and smoothed down her skirt. "It seems as dough jou two are eider close friends or ribals. Jou do not speak as enemies do. Jou are bot' too confident for jour own good and neider realizes dat de oder is dangerous. And beliebe me, jou are bot' in danger from each oder. Goodbye, Mrs. Sparrow. I will speak to Jack for jou."

"Thank you." Scarlette looked grim as they neared the door, her arms crossed angrily over her chest.

Morgan gave Scarlette a look before he left that was not the easiest to decipher. Scarlette seemed a bit confused. It was not fear but more like … dread. Sometimes dread and fear are the same, but sometimes dread is just a reluctance to face what is to come.

…

Jack returned to town later that night and entered the Faithful Bride pub. Finding a clear spot amongst the crowded establishment would prove to be a mighty endeavor. Or so he thought. As soon as Captain Jack Sparrow entered that room and looked about himself for a place, the men cleared, either from fear or respect. Either in this case was highly plausible. Not two years prior, Jack had sent the entire room in chaotic panic, or really, he and Scarlette had.

It had begun in quite an interesting way.

{FLASHBACK}

_ Jack had ushered Scarlette inside after arriving in the crowded port of Tortuga. Sharon and Joaquin had been introduced to Kwan Lyun and he had insisted on keeping them there along with Anamaria for the few days of furlough. This was a bit convenient to Jack and Scarlette, who had not had much time to each other._

_ Scarlette pulled the hood of her cloak off and surveyed the crowded room. There were no spaces available, neither at the scarred wooden bar nor at the several weathered tables._

_ "I'll be back," Jack told her. "See if any of these men will clear a space." She hated it when he did that. She might be a pirate of sorts, or at least act like one, but her appearance said otherwise. She shrugged and moved towards the tables, finding the most secluded one._

_ "Excuse me sir," she began, addressing a burly pirate that in modern times could have been any of Hell's Angels. "I did notice that you were sitting alone and nearly finished with your current beverage. Would it be possible for you to forfeit this table to me?"_

_ "Well, I don't know 'bout that, Lass," he told her, smiling and revealing yellowed and sparingly teeth. "You cin sit 'ere wit me f'you like, but I don't really wanna leave yet. Me crew be here on account that we're chasin' somebody."_

_ "Are you the captain?" _

_ "No'm. Me captain be the one a' the bar wit the two wenches b'side 'im."_

_ "Well, can you not join him?"_

_ "No'm."_

_ "And you won't give up your seat to a lady, even though she asked for it politely?"_

_ "Listen, Lassy. I be a pirate. Ye be a lass. Ye keep pesterin' me an' I might be in mind ta show ya what a pirate can do."_

_ "Yes, well, you would be violating Article Nine, and your captain there, with his two temporary companions would not take it lightly."_

_ "Who're you to tell me pirate law, eh?"_

_ "No one special. I'm just a woman seeking a table without companion from a separate crew."_

_ "Ye be a pirate as well, eh? Well, then. Article Nine don't apply."_

_ "Oh, it does, in my case, and should you continue to threaten me, you will not like what happens. I only meant to take your table, sir. Surely there is another table of your own crewman that will make room for you."_

_ By now, a few of the closest customers of the pub were listening. The pirate still was not budging._

_ "Do you know whom we've come here to hunt, Girlie?" he asked her, gripping her wrist and yanking her to his side of the table. "We've been tracking a fearsome captain for months now and he's here in port. If you knew who we were tracking, you wouldn't be tempting my or any of the crew's anger. We're feared men to be going after such a prey."_

_ "You will let me go now," she told him, staring at his burly hand on her thin wrist._

_ "An' what if I don't, eh? You're just a little girl who knows a bit about the Articles. What can you do ta me?"_

_ She smiled. "You better hope I do it before my husband comes back or it'll be even worse." _

_ "Bring it, then wench," he growled. _

_ She smiled sweetly at him, and quickly put her booted foot on the chair between his legs. He jumped reflexively, sighing in relief that she'd missed. She'd meant to miss. "Last chance."_

_ He only grinned at her, crossing his legs to protect himself. She smiled, grabbed her skirt with her free hand, hiked it up to the mid thigh and used the moment of shock to her advantage, grabbing the knife sheathed there and using it on the idiot's wrist. He let her go and she stepped back, the bloody knife held in her right hand. She licked the blood off, watching him as she did it, and spit it in his face._

_ "I warned you, man. That was fair." The men around her had stood to watch and a few of them shook their heads, laughing at the pirate._

_ "Who are you, lass?" one of them asked. His tone of voice was a bit suspicious and she didn't answer, or at least not to what she might have in a different setting._

_ "My name is Elizabeth Turner. Who are you hunting for?"_

_ "The one and only Sparrow," one of them answered. "You know anything of him? Jack Sparrow?"_

_ "Oh, perhaps. But you'd do well to remember his title. He is a captain, after all." Speaking of which, she spotted him near the back wall. He looked slightly stricken. Scarlette gave him a grimace. She needed to figure out how to throw them off the track and out of the pub, or at least get herself and Jack out of the pub without them noticing his presence. She looked about and noticed the captain, who was ignoring the scene. His wounded crewmember had left to get his arm bandaged._

_ She sidled up to the captain with the men watching. "Excuse us for a minute, ladies." The whores looked at her and one seemed on the verge of saying her name. Scarlette winked at her while turning and the whore shut her mouth. They were … sort of friends with Jack and blowing Scarlette's cover could get Jack in trouble._

_ "So …" she said to the captain, who now stared at her full on. "You're lookin' for Jack Sparrow. Elusive bastard, I imagine. Well, I happen to know exactly where he's at right now."_

_ "I would imagine, Ma'am, that you would," he agreed. "Seeing as you are married to the rat."_

_ "Excuse me?" Scarlette said, almost loosing her composure. "You must have me confused with Scarlette. I am Elizabeth Turner. The Sparrows were good friends of my husband's and mine. However, if you're willing to give up a bit of a … price, I'll sell them out to you."_

_ He cleared his throat and motioned her to come closer. He whispered gruffly with his crew watching. "I know who you are. I was in Spain last year when the rat escaped from the conquistador Miguel Dieños. I saw the both of you. Dieños was the one who hired me and my crew."_

_ "Oh …" Scarlette was at a bit of a loss. "My crew and me, sir." she corrected his English before continuing. "Mrs. Sparrow and I do look remarkably alike. She's a bit shorter than I am but we could almost be sisters."_

_ "Enough, Scarlette Sparrow." He stood and faced the men in the bar, flourishing towards her. "Yes, indeed men. This here be the woman of our quarry. What should we do with her?" His voice echoed frighteningly around the room._

_ There were several shouts, a few quite suggestive. An offer of death, a couple explicit positions, an offer to check under her dress for weapons, the usual. Some of the offers tossed were physically impossible. She looked around and didn't see Jack. _

_ "Where be Jack, eh? Tell us now, and we might be goin' easy on ye fer woundin' one of us," the captain's breath was foul but Scarlette was rooted to the spot, surrounded by several men._

_ She felt a bit of dust fall upon her neck and looked up at the rafters. Dust was falling from the ceiling in a rapid shower of particles. She had a feeling she knew what was to come. The bartender looked up and blanched. She watched him leave the room and head for the door._

_ She didn't know what was going to happen but at the sound of splintering wood, ducking and covering sounded like a great idea. As the other crew all looked to the ceiling, with its rickety old brass hanging lamps, Scarlette hopped the bar and ducked, her body tucked against the solid wood, knowing it to be the only sturdy thing in the place. As soon as she hit the floor, the meat of the ceiling, with the three brass hanging lamps as the foci, collapsed on the pirates. Any of the normal customers had known that the Sparrows were about to give them yet another show and had either gone to the ends of the room or left entirely. Scarlette, through the dust, stood, and bolted for the stairs._

_ She raced upwards and met Jack on the landing. He was grinning wildly. She noticed that he was being followed by about ten women, all armed to the teeth. He pulled out her sword from her own belt and handed to her. "Arms out, Luv."_

_ When the dust cleared, both Jack and Scarlette had their pistols pointed and their cutlasses on a blunt display. Blunt was not the best word for what they were displaying of course, but the statement was. The women had surrounded the fallen men, weapons out as well. Well … their artificial weaponry, not their God given … gifts._

_ "Well, sir. You've been searching for me and now you've managed to find me. What do you propose to do?" Jack was smirking. _

_ The captain stood and brushed himself off. "I simply do not understand how you keep escaping from nearly impossible situations with the oddest happenings. What are the odds that a ceiling would fall to save the Sparrows?"_

_ "Not very good, seeing as I had to drop that through the roof," Jack brandished his cutlass in the direction of the floor. Two men were trapped underneath a rather large cannon. It still had chains and ropes attached to it and a large hook that must have held it to a crane once._

_ "I would leave if I were you," Jack told him. "But, if you were me, we wouldn't be having this conversation, because I would be taking you and this one," he motioned to Scarlette, "to your ship in chains with my men parading behind me, a whore to each. You would both … well, you would be hung most likely in Port Royal. She would escape, but if you were me, you'd already be dead, and she wouldn't be with you any ways."_

_ The captain smiled. "Don't be so sure of yourself, Sparrow."_

_ "Oh? If I were you, Jack Sparrow would be dead."_

_ "And if I were you, which I am not, I would most likely be out, drunk out of my mind, too cocky of my name to realize I was surrounded. Also, I would probably kill myself, knowing I was about to be hauled off to Spain to face Dieños. And we're not talking hanging. He has requested you for … special favors only. He'd take her too, but he prefers men, and you were just too irresistible to him." With those words, the doors opened, and more men flowed into the room._

_ Scarlette blanched but Jack grinned, pulling out two different guns and handing her one. She looked at it and back at him. "You bastard! You went without me, but I love you for it!" The pirates, of course, had no clue as to what they spoke._

_ "Do you get paid if you bring me back dead?" Jack shouted to the captain._

_ His face betrayed him. The answer was no. Which, meant, they couldn't kill Jack. He pulled out two more guns and had Scarlette take another one. "Don't hit the women." And he began to shoot with his right hand only, leaving the other gun. She mirrored him and shot one handed into the pirates. The strange thing was, they never reloaded. She had yelled at Jack for going into the future without her. The guns were new models, a twenty-three bullet clip, twenty-four with one in the chamber._

_ "No! Don't shoot them!" The captain was screaming, but the men weren't listening. By the time they had organized enough to shoot straight, the Sparrows were gone. All that was left was a jagged edged hole in the floor._

_ What they hadn't seen due to most of them ducking to the floor, was Scarlette jumping onto Jack's shoulders and the both of them shooting into the floor with the remaining weapons as he turned in a circle. They were now running along the beach, having fallen through the floor into the cellar and climbed out the hatch door that opened out into a perfect break to the shore._

_ Yes, these two were not ones to tangle with._

{END FLASHBACK}

And as Jack entered and the men moved out of his way, he looked up to see the new boards in the ceiling.

He felt a small hand at his elbow and he turned to meet Libussa. Her grandmotherly smile always sent him into a panic.

"What do you want?" he asked automatically.

"Scarlette is fine," she told him. "But I'be anoder vision to share wit' jou. Sit." She bade him to move to a table with a few holes in it.

She continued when they were both seated at the spool table. "I was seated here not too long ago, drinkin' my grog, when I accidentally called up a vision. Now, not'ing is eber really accidental, derefore, dis vision must hab meant somet'ing. Dere was a small bird wit' a forked tail flittin' abou' but before de vision ended, a brilliant snake wrapped up de little fowl. I know not how de vision ends because I knocked de drink ober in shock. Dese holes jou see were what happened when spell induced liquid ob dat kind touched solid substance."

"What does the image mean? The Sparrow, I assume is me. But the snake? What could that be?"

"De snake, in some myths, means "Debil" so I am not sure. It can also be a symbol of resurrection. Has anyone jou killed been up to haunt jou lately?" Her 'myth' was pronounced mit. Sometimes these ladies were hard to understand.

"No. Not that I've seen yet," Jack frowned. "What about you? Has anyone I killed bothered you yet?"

"Not a soul, but I did hab to tangle wit' Morgan earlier."

"I was under the impression that you ladies were difficult to … tangle with. What happened?"

"Well, his ship needs blood, particularly female blood to keep it inbisible and under control. Morgan controls it t'ru necromancy, power ober de dead. De ship is like an undead entity. Now, most ob de time, a deat' is needed to seal de ship in inbisibility for t'ree days. Scarlette has a special case of bein' bery close to deat'. Her blood is special in a way dat she can feed de t'ing just a smear and it will be fine for more dan t'ree days eben. Howeber, de last time she fed it, it bit her. De ship is a type of zombie jou might say. De type ob which can be contagious wit' its bite. She had been in bed for a night, unmobing, growing worse until de sun rose. She seemed to gain color while de sun was up but as soon as it set, her face paled and her life began to transfer again. Morgan did not know what was happenin'. He got me and ended up getting stuck wit' jou while I cured her. De ship had begun de process of turnin' her into an undead human version of itself. She's fine now, but weak."

"Weak?" Jack exclaimed. "And on a ship surrounded by men?"

"No," Libussa assured him. "De crew respects her and Morgan is protecting her from de hostiles on board, includin' de ship itself. Dere really is not'ing to worry 'bout. Dose two, if anyt'ing, will fight each oder. De crew has lost interest in combatin' her or de oder women. Aldough, dere is one on board. A woman dat Scarlette behemently dislikes. Touchin' Morgan, I get mixed feelings on de subject ob Scarlette and dis woman. Speaking of mixed feelings, don't turn jour back on him. He doesn't know it yet, but he's got more a quarrel wit' you dan eider ob jou know as ob yet."

"Does he, now? What of it?"

"Well, choices are choices. Until he actually understands himself, jou don't need to fret, oder dan findin' dis blasted treasure eberyone's so hot to get. If he should figure it out before den and decide to make more ob a t'reat ob himself, jou may bery well not be de one to kill him."

"I should kill him," Jack growled. "But he said the ship'd go haywire and kill everything on it."

"If jou see him in a week, go ahead and kill him. De ship will be fine, den. Jou can't kill him before hand, dough. And he was right. De ship would hab gone insane tonight."

"You just told me the ship would be fine? Now it would kill?"

"I said dat next week jou could kill him. If jou do it before, de ship will destroy anyt'ing in its pat', starting wit' Scarlette. I 'pologize for bein' vague wit' jou, Jack. But if jou knew eberyt'ing, where would de plot be?"

"So I can kill him next week, but not tonight? Why?"

"I will not tell jou. One; jou would not do well wit' de information. Two; de Readers are here as well, and dey are not supposed to know yet. If dey figure it out or are pribileged wit' de knowledge from de aut'or, den good for dem, but dey hab to bring wordy (worthy) trade for spoilers such as dat. (A gift certificate to Hot Topic would be nice, or some new pirate socks. Jack Sparrow wall paper …. use your imagination.)

"As I was sayin'," Libussa continued, ignoring the little voice in her head demanding for Japanese cuisine. "I do not eben know de entire answer to jour question."

"Lyin' old bat," Jack muttered.

"What was dat?"

"Lime on that," he answered, waving to a woman. "Get me a drink! With lime." (Raise your hand if you think he's getting tequila ^_^. Oh, come on! Don't tell me you haven't seen _Once Upon a Time in Mexico_. You haven't? GASP!)

Libussa smiled. "I neber lie."

"I didn't say you did."

"And I'm not an old bat."

"Who called you that?"

She chuckled softly at Jack and shook her head. "Jou neber do learn; do jou, Captain Jack Sparrow. I know many t'ings dat jou do not understand. Jus' abou' eberyone I touch becomes known to me in some way or oder. I would find dis treasure as soon as possible, oderwise, Scarlette may be in greater danger dan any ob us can say."

Jack smiled quaintly at her and turned to leave without receiving his drink. He turned abruptly and fixed a gaze on her. She continued to smile like a cat, her grin never fading.

"What's a warrior stone?" he asked her.

"Oh, dat. Well, I'll just say, de answer lies wit' one ob jour inner circle. Jou are meant to find de treasure, William is de pureness, Lizzy is de merfolk, and Topher has yet to hab a purpose. T'ink, my boy, before jou act."

"Ah. So Topher has something to do with this mess as well. He has the Warrior's Stone."

"Yes, but not quite yet. Dat will all come clear later on. Also, Jack. Jou will come into contact wit' Morgan later on in yet anoder situation where you cannot kill him."

"Blast it all! When will this be?"

"Oh, not for some time. Jou will be on the same side in dis endeabor and killing each oder would probe fatal."

"Do I ever get to kill the bloody bastard?"

"I will not rebeal dis at dis time, but I will tell jou dis. Scarlette may become a prize in dis, more so dan de treasure. She is deadly in her own rite, but jou know how reluctant she is to killin' dose wit' whom she holds a fabor or what all. All will become clear … ebentually. Goodnight." She stood from the table and moved to leave, threading through the tables with a younger agility than her age deemed. She looked over her shoulder and shouted one final phrase to Jack.

"Jou may not hab as much time as jou t'ink, Jack Sparrow."

Jack stared after her with dark eyes. When she had gone, he shrugged and returned to his ship, skirting the painted women that haunted the dimly lit streets.

…

The trio of ships was back on the line the following day and _the Pearl _coasted out easily on the noon tide. _The Necromancer _followed shortly and Norrington, not being as quick to graces as Morgan, nearly fell behind when the tide left him hardly enough leeway to follow. He, however, caught enough wind to pull _The Dauntless_ from this predicament. There was nothing better than a good windlass, or a good windlass operator.

Meanwhile, on Morgan's ship, Scarlette sulked in the cabin, drawing on bits of paper she'd found within. She had laid out an inked rose, so stark that it almost seemed to have water falling from it, the dew she'd penned in looking most lifelike. She was feeling much better and wanted to leave the stuffy cabin. But even her want for fresh air could not have her running into Morgan, or worse, Ruby.

Of course, a little while after noon, when the ship was on the way and set to follow the billowing black sails of _the Pearl_, the cabin door opened and Morgan himself entered the room. He shut the door with a click and crossed the room to where she was sitting.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Well enough to walk," she told him hopefully.

"I think not. Libussa said not to let you up for at least two days. Not until the next feeding."

"Feeding?" Scarlette exclaimed. "You really expect me to feed that thing after what happened?"

"You're immune now," he told her. "And Libussa assured me that the ship wouldn't try it again. I don't know about you, but I believed her. She sounded sure of her words."

"Yeah, well, I hate being stuck in here!"

"Better here than where Ruby can get at you," he answered.

"True, I suppose," Scarlette agreed. "Though, I bet I could take her."

"Scarlette," Morgan stated. "You were casting up blood and literally becoming dead. You weren't fit to battle a spider."

"Yeah, well," Scarlette waved it off. "No one tried to fight me, did they? I could have if I'd had the chance."

Morgan raised an eyebrow at that. "Sure."

Scarlette glared at him. "Did you come in here to annoy me?"

"No. I came in to feed you," and he handed her a bowl and a piece of bread. There was a crude wooden spoon in the bowl.

She bit a piece of the bread, or tried to do so. It was ships bread and more like hardtack than any plaster mold could ever be. To top it off, there were little worm crawling out of the dent she'd made with her teeth.

"Oh, my goodness! I hate it when I get the wormy ones. No thanks." She put the biscuit on the table where the worms squirmed about and fell onto the wooden surface. She tried the soup, sniffing it tenuously. She shrugged and drank a bit of the broth. "Not too bad. Better than some I've tasted."

"I made that particular soup myself," he told her. She stopped drinking it and gave him a look.

"Did you now. And I'm supposed to drink it? What if it's poisoned?"

"It isn't. Watch." He took the bowl and drank a bit. "Just fine. Here." She took it, never taking her suspicious eyes off him. She finished it in a matter of minutes and handed the bowl back.

He took it and put it on the table, smiling at her. Her eyebrows creased and she fixed her gaze on him. "What are you up to?

"Me? I am up to no good, as usual."

"Yes, well, you are a pirate, but why are you being so nice all of a sudden?"

He thought about it, looking up at the ceiling. "You know, it never occurred to me why. I just felt like being nice for once. Is that a crime?"

"No, but it is suspicious," she answered. "We are enemies, or have you forgotten that little bit of information. Libussa says that we are dangerous to each other, yet you are catering to me. Not that I'm complaining … it's just that … do enemies serve each other?"

He smiled at her. "No. Not usually, not by choice anyways."

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you implying, Morgan?"

He continued to smile and she reached behind her, looking for a weapon. He leaned forward until they were eye to eye.

"Remember Scarlette," he growled. "On my ship, there is nowhere to run." He put a single finger to her forehead and shoved. She tilted her head back a bit but other than that, gave no indication that she was afraid. She glared at his retreating back and spoke.

"And you, Morgan. Remember with whom you tangle." He smiled and shut the door behind him. Scarlette shivered and told herself it was from the cold.

…

Well, then. That was most interesting. What the hell is going on! I'm not even sure. I suppose it depends on what happens in real life. Now, for the quote answers.

(Poodle man!) Shelly, in response to Kami's boyfriend

(CLICK) This would be an over the phone argument between Scarlette and Morgan. Morgan has the idea that he knows everything and Scarlette was telling him differently.

(Back up! – bloody bits!) Jericho, in response to his white pit bull, Petey, who growls at everyone.

(Chris is dead!) Cob. See explanation below.

($500 outfit) Kami. A friend of hers always assesses her outfits on how much she would pay for … services rendered.

(My Elizabeth look) Robin, in response to getting ready for her prom.

(Tell Carlos I'm not dead!) Mullins, or half of him. Mullins is based on two people. Apparently, Cob had heard about an accident in which several people had died. There was a rumor that Mullins had died as well. Mullins was the one informing people about the accident and Cob had heard something totally different. … I guess half isn't right. He had a few character traits of this guy. The rest (70%) is someone who was in _Peter Pan_ with me.

(Bigfoot?) Ruby. It was a line of hers in a play where she was basically playing herself. A bitchy, stuck up diva that no one got along with. Funnier still, 30% Mullins was playing Bigfoot.

Well, that's it, kids. Date finished July 26, 2004, 17:52 hrs. page count … about 115. Goodness, eh? Chapter six of the first one clocked in at … 101. We're ahead of schedule, I suppose.

**Revisited … Feb 02, 07. Pg 169 **


	8. Chapter VII: Puppet Strings

Kon'ba wa minna! Bonsoir, tout le monde! Good evening, everyone ! Sorry, I only know three languages for that particular phrase. Hello is much easier. Let's see….

Bonjour

Gutentaag

Ni hao

Buon giorno

Hola

Konnichiwa

Aloha

Dai'sti'ho

That's all I can think of. I know I spelled some of those wrong. Sound code is not all it's cracked up to be. I'll try and say goodbye after the chapter, now for quotes.

"Man! You're a life saver!"

"Shaved heads are the best! You don't have to spend time on them in the morning and you never have a bed head, or helmet hair or anything. And it's cool in the summer."

"I read the list of songs and found that I knew most of them! Does that mean I like musicals?"

"Damn cheerleaders!"

Can't … think … Guess what! I don't remember if I mentioned that I was going to be in Les Misérables but I found out something really weird, for me anyways. I'm basically an extra, a whore/factory worker, you get the idea. Well, I wasn't sure of my vocal range, as most of the cast was. I was going to just put up alto, seeing as I've got a pretty deep speaking voice and singing, I can do just about anything within reasonable ranges. Well, the musical director had me get up in front of everyone and start singing scales with her accompaniment on the keyboard.

Well, she ran me through the length of the board and when she stopped, she smiled and said, just as bright as can be, "Congratulations! You're a first soprano!"

What? Yikes!

Even stranger, I'm the understudy for the one and only, Gavroche! A little boy? What're they tryin' ta say? Funnier still. The two days I acted as Gavroche, I was dressed more feminine than ever. Short black skirt one day, pink tube top another day. I kid you not.

There are only three firsts, including me, but not including those in the cast. I feel so strange sitting there. I'm used to being in band, sitting in the back with the low brass, not sitting up front and hitting these piercing notes. Of course, band and choir are two separate things.

Anyways, one of the older members, who was assigned to soprano 2 got a bit snippy with me. I mean, come on. In her eyes, I was a little tomboy who wore black with studs. Not to mention the sash hanging off my belt. And the wristbands … and makeup. Hell, I was 18. She can't judge me as if I were a child. Well, I suppose she did, but still. Kay. No more about me. On with the story.

**Chapter VII –Puppet Strings**

Chelsea was sitting on the floor, her arms crossed over her chest. Sean and Tony were both asleep, snoring and drooling profusely. She was poking Sean but he didn't budge and inch.

"I've got an idea," Kristin suggested. "Do you still have your little bag?"

"Yep," Chelsea pulled a little bag of supplies, or something, off her back. Kristin opened it up to reveal an assortment of makeup. She grinned evilly at Chelsea until the smaller girl smiled back. Mwuahahaha!

…

Jack looked from his spyglass and growled as he noticed Norrington's ship sailing behind them. "Bloody bastard never does give up."

"Sir," Gibbs spoke up. "We must have taken on a few extra rodents while in port. They've eaten all the fruit."

"Well, that be a shame," Jack muttered, snapping the spyglass shut. "Is everything trying to get me? What did I do?"

"Uh … sir … ye be a pirate."

"Ah, well. There is that."

"But a morally sound pirate at that." Gibbs sighed and leaned against the railing. He pulled out a pipe and started burning tobacco in it. Jack looked at him and creased his eyebrows.

"Gibbs? I didn't know you smoked," Jack pointed out.

Gibbs looked down at his pipe. "I usually don't, but after … after she went, I had ta do sommat. Drinkin' don't help me. I enjoy it too much. This at least lets me do sommat and stay awake to feel the pain."

"I would think the point would be to dull the pain?"

Gibbs smiled slightly. "For some, I suppose. I think a bit differently. I feel the pain always. I refuse ta dull it. It's like dimming the memory. I wouldn't want to snuff out Anamaria's memory." He fondled a black bag on a drawstring around his neck.

Jack nodded. "I can see where you get that." He thought of his conversation with Mulligan briefly. In thinking of enigmatic matters, he usually found the want of drink very strong. He glanced at his hip where a flask was strapped. He pulled it out and looked at it carefully, unscrewing the lid. He sniffed the contents.

"Spiced rum," he spoke, continuing to glare out over the stern. The sun was going down, casting an orange light over everything, and making the sea into a green canvas of ever-moving matter. He sighed at the indentation in the water where _The Necromancer_'s hull ran along their wake. He tipped the spice rum into the ocean and the liquid mingled with the water until it was crushed by the other ship.

He looked at the flask again, then back at Gibbs. Gibbs was shaking his head. "I never said ta waste it."

"Ah, well, in that case," Jack finished off the flask of rum and coughed once. He shook his head. "I want Scarlette here."

Gibbs nodded. "Aye. Bet she's givin' him hell, eh?"

Jack grinned. "You know, it's been years since she was last kidnapped. I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later."

Gibbs looked at the dent in the wake. "I want to kill that stupid kid. Add him to my collection." His grip on the little bag became tighter. Jack frowned and was left to wonder what was in the bag.

"You and me both, mate," Jack answered. "Though, according to Libussa, we can't kill him until a week from now, for some reason."

"Libussa? That old wench we met in the pub some eleven years ago? She's full of codswallop."

"So you've said, but what about Scarlette, eh? She predicted that. And Barbossa coming back? She was right on that, too."

Gibbs hung his head. "I suppose yer right, Cap'n. I just … I can't believe we've come so far from that night. It seems just yesterday we were hearin' about the privateer wrecks. Some ship was attacking most efficiently and it wasn't us."

"It must have been _the Dragon_," Jack answered. "_The Poison Dragon _was big enough to take them all on. Not to mention, the Chinese are ruthless to foreign ships."

"That's right," Kwan Lyun commented from farther down the deck. He walked up to the two men and looked out at the sea. "We Chinese are brutal to any who would call us savage. Most men do not understand our customs and deem them barbaric for some odd reason. Why a pirate would call a Chinaman uncivilized is beyond me. We aren't the ones who eat with our hands, or refuse to bathe."

Jack was smiling. "I find you impeccably hilarious. The fact that you are absolutely correct does not make the irony any less."

"Four days to Isla de Muerta," Gibbs spoke, sighing as he did. "I don't like the feelin' I be getting' Cap'n."

"Likewise," Jack spoke. "We'd best make sure the crew and passengers know exactly what's in that blasted chest, eh?"

"Well, havin' a few untouchables on deck might be comin' in handy," Gibbs mentioned, puffing on his pipe.

Lyun fixed an eye on him. "I do not think this wise. From what I have heard of this Morgan character, he has control over the dead. We do not fully understand this curse. What if its properties enable him to control the cursed ones?"

"I never thought o' that," Gibbs spoke.

"Jack!" a female voice exclaimed. "Jack! Where the hell are you?"

The infamous pirate turned, noticing an excited Kami about four meters behind him. She held a large leather bag bulging with papers.

He frowned and strode to her, noting the worried expression on her face.

…

It was getting dark by the time Norrington ventured into the lower decks to check on the prisoners – excuse me, "passengers". The light of the moon fell through a cannon port at just the right angle, falling on two of the snoozing prisoners. Tony and Sean sat upright, leaning against one another, their faces painted eerily. The two women were within the shadow and Norrington's eyes, not accustomed to the lighting yet, did not pick them out of the darkness.

He lit a lantern and dared to come closer. He began to stand straighter and straighter as he saw the boys' faces.

Sean had violently blue eyebrows, or should I say eyebrow. His nose was green and he had strange symbols in red on his cheeks. The lids of his eyes were whore violet and his lips looked pinker than usual, shining in a way no man's lips were meant to shine. There were golden stripes on some of the bare patches of skin. His hair was still a brilliant shade of pink.

Tony sat with his head thrown back, his mouth wide open, snoring so loudly that the bars of the area vibrated. He wore bright red lipstick, green eye shadow and enough rouge caked on his cheeks to rival the "lovely ladies" of Tortuga.

There weren't many things that could make the Commodore blush. Strangely enough, these two eccentrically decorated men did the trick. Chelsea and Kristin were giggling violently in the shadows, holding hands over their mouths to keep from alerting Norrington.

He shone the light around and found the two women, faces red with mirth and shoulders vibrating like crazy. "All right, ladies. We've gotten out of Tortuga. Where would the fiend be off to next?"

"Isla—" Kristin started. Chelsea clamped a hand over her mouth.

"We'll only tell you if you let us out on deck instead of keeping us down here." Chelsea was firm and unblinking in her terms. Norrington blinked.

"Do you think me a fool?"

"Maybe," she answered truthfully.

"Those two would have the ship in shambles within the hour."

"Not if you made them part of the crew," Chelsea answered again. "They have served with _the Pearl_. It was ten years ago, but it happened."

Norrington considered it. "And if they mess up, can we beat them?"

"No," Chelsea spat. "They're not from this time. We don't function under the same rules."

"Well, they'd better do their jobs. Where are we headed?"

"Shake first," Chelsea put in. She stuck her tiny hand through the bars. Norrington sighed and shook with her.

"Isla de Muerta," she told him. He nodded and left, closing the hatch over their heads.

"I think that poof lied to us," Kristin blurted.

…

Jack was looking over the papers Kami had brought to him. They were entirely on his family. And, to say the least, it was frightening.

"Where did you find these?" he asked her.

"In the attic of the house I was staying at. Along with an emerald necklace and a pistol and other things. That compass on your belt; there was one just like it in the attic."

He looked at her and swallowed. "That's interesting. Everyone leave me. I need to be alone with these … documents."

Everyone left, although some wanted to stay. Not even Lyun was allowed to remain in the room.

Jack leafed through the papers and cringed at some of the titles. "Turner burned at the stake for heresy against the crown." It didn't mention which Turner and Jack hadn't yet brought himself to read the articles, but that wasn't the worst of the headlines.

One particularly nasty one read "Young Sparrow Boy, Caught in Singapore, Hung in Port Royal" and another "Sharon Elise Sparrow, Forfeits Company Deal, Suspected Dead". But the one that made him want to burn down a building and dance on the ashes was a small, seemingly insignificant bit. It was on the page which told who had died, been born, or gotten married in Jamaica. At the very bottom of the page, circles in thick ink of a pen long gone, said three names. Morgan Maxwell, Cutler Beckett, and Scarlette Sparrow. The article was mostly of death. For some reason, Jack's eyes did not want to focus on the connecting words.

And as for his own fate, there was the last page. "Jack Sparrow, the Infamous Pirate Captain, Vanished Along with _Black Pearl_".

He desperately looked for the dates on the articles but no clues were given, save for the date atop the obit column, reading "July 3rd". There was no year.

He held the papers tightly in one hand, nearly disemboweling a dresser with his other. These things could _not_ come to pass. There had to be some way around them. Perhaps … maybe they were fake! Yeah, they had to be fake.

Jack had no idea how much time had passed until Gibbs knocked on the cabin door and was permitted to enter.

The older man's face was worried indeed upon seeing his captain's sorry state. He sat beside him and seemed to jockey for a good bit of dialogue to pop into his head. He finally settled on that days report.

"We've made good time, Cap'n," he began. "Should be nearin' the Isle de Muerta within two days 'stead o' four. 'Course that be on'y if the weather keep it's breath in. Armstrong had a bit of a tussle with a rat earlier on but I reckon he's fine. Dinner's almost ready and the galley is fairly clean, as of yet. Er …" Jack looked completely non-plussed at any of this information.

"I'll jus' be leavin', then …" Gibbs tiptoed to the door.

"Gibbs," Jack called. The older man paused at the doorway and gave his Captain a look of waiting. "Would you be terribly upset if I had no idea what was going on?"

Gibbs blanched and backed out of the room, muttering. "I've faith in ye, Cap'n."

Jack shook his head. "At least one of us does."

…

Scarlette woke up feeling much better. Well enough indeed to get up and try to escape from the cabin, or at least arm herself once again. She was thwarted, however, by Morgan. He entered the room not two minutes after she regained consciousness and started moving.

"Put that down," he told her, motioning to the sword she'd picked up in haste. When she didn't comply, he sighed and sat on the foot of the bed. He motioned for her to join him. Slightly confused, she returned to the head of the bed and sat, feeling the remaining warmth from when she lay slumbering.

"What do you want?" she asked, gripping the hilt tightly.

"I want to ask you some questions," he spoke carefully. "You're smart … and you think like your bloody husband, which means you just might know what's going on. Where are we going, for instance?"

Scarlette looked outside. "Well, gee. Guessing just by looking at the surroundings, I'd say we were headed to Hawaii. How the hell am I supposed to know where we're going? I've been inside and unconscious for most of the trip! Now, if you provided me with some input, say, a bearing for direction since we left Tortuga, then perhaps I could answer that question a bit better."

"We've been heading due East for a day and a half. We made a small but notable northern direction change in the last few hours."

"Oh, that's easy. Sounds like we're on the way to Isla de Muerta. Either that, or we're going to Spain … that would take much longer, though. I guess he needs to get that idol from the caves to throw Norrington off our tail." She scowled. "Why don't you just leave me alone, eh? I don't want to help you unless it's going to get me back on my ship, with my friends and family, going somewhere I want to go."

"Well, it'll help in the long run. I don't intend to kill you."

"Just my husband."

"Not at this point. As long as he cooperated in getting me my treasure, you two will have a nice little reunion someday and go off and be happy little duckies. I care only for the treasure."

"Uh huh. What's all the fuss about this _Langue de Serpente _any way?"

"Well, there's this riddle, you see," he looked quite sheepish.

"Ah, can't figure out the riddle, huh?" she smiled in a taunting way. "What is it?"

He sighed. "I've got it memorized.

_One spill of gold, a flattened scale _

_One drop of blood, a ruby eye,_

_One sprig of green, an emerald tail,_

_One dreg of black, an onyx lie_

_And at last, the violet thread,_

_Amethyst twines the lines of the dead."_

Scarlette looked at him for a second. "Can you write that down for me?" He hastily scrabbled it out onto an old piece of paper and handed it to her. She snipped the quill right out of his hands, did some serious corrections to the paper, mostly spelling, and started pouring over the small bit of parchment.

"Well, the scale bit is a little obvious. I assume it has something to do with some reptile in the area. This is the _Langue de Serpente_ we're talking about. This seems to be a cryptic ingredients list for some odd potion … magic? A drop of blood … kay. The green and black make absolutely no sense to me. I would guess that whatever the 'violet' part is would be the tongue of the … metaphoric creature. The tail of green, scales of gold, eyes of red … yeah. The violet is the tongue, 'twines the lines of the dead' and onyx lies … forms of speech … I really need more information … like where the hell we're going."

"The _Langue de Serpente _is said to be a treasure both of great fortune and terrible strife," Morgan added. "No one knows, really."

"Well, someone knows," Scarlette pointed out. "If no one knew anything, we wouldn't be hearing about it."

"Well, one needs the first three ingredients, the pure blood, mermaid's scale, and the warrior stone," he began, "To get as far as using the riddle part for anything. Problem is, no one knows what a warrior stone is."

"Mermaid's scale?" she added. "Mermaids don't exist."

He looked at her in wonder. "Are you absolutely certain? How do you know they don't exist? Have you ever been that deep where they might live?"

"No," she answered. "But I _am_ from the future, where we probably would have found traces of them if they did exist."

"I suppose you're going to tell me dragons and vampires don't exist either. What about sirens? Ruby is part siren and they have tails like mermaids do."

"She might just be telling you that, you know. Dragons don't exists. Vampires, however … they do. I've met a few. Barbossa had been revived by a vampire old enough to remember Christ."

"Unnatural beings, they be."

"This from someone who raises the dead."

…

Sean and Tony looked odd in their sailor's outfits. Sean, with his pink afro-like hair, looked quite a bit like Raggedy Andy, plus a hundred pounds. Tony, with his hair tied back in a ponytail looked pretty normal. Kristin and Chelsea were wandering about the decks, watching the sailors and trying to ignore come hither comments from the men when the officers weren't within hearing distance. Often the only difference between sailors and pirates was the uniform and the chain of command.

As Chelsea and Kristin were looking about, Kristin noticed Lieutenant Groves at the helm. Chelsea could remember how they'd been somewhat sweet on each other way back when the future kids had first entered this world, or so she'd been told. Chelsea had not been to the past until just this time. Seeing Kristin and Groves make eye contact, she left the area, not wanting to intrude.

Upon inquiry, Chelsea was told that the Commodore was in the cabin. She wanted to ask him some questions.

Mounting the steps, she realized most of the crowd was staring at her. She looked uncomfortable for a moment, straightening out her long skirt and frowning. "Don't you all have something to do?" They turned back to their duties, mumbling about women with purple hair under their breath.

She turned around and placed her hand on the knob. Freezing with her skin on the cool metal, she decided she'd better knock, so as not to get on the Commodore's nerves.

"Enter," he stated after her knock on the door in a rather tired voice. Chelsea opened the thick door and entered the cabin.

This particular cabin was usually lit quite well. Today, however, it was dim and slightly cold. Chelsea had never seen the Commodore in any other state than prim and proper, but here he was, sitting at his desk, his coat hung on the back of his chair, his wig set aside. He had dark brown hair, pulled back and twined in a braid, sheathed neatly inside a leather hair wrap.

"Oh, Miss Russell," he was genuinely startled. He reached for his wig but Chelsea cleared her throat. He froze and fixed her with a somewhat piqued glance.

"You needn't bother with that, Commodore," she told him hastily. "I just wanted to ask some questions."

"I hope you haven't come to blackmail me any more. Because if you have, Miss Russell, I will not stand for it."

"Do you intend to arrest Jack at Isla de Muerta? What if he gives you the idol? Will you help him find Scarlette? Robin and Elizabeth are missing as well."

"Yes, we have been informed of these disappearances. Scarlette is presumed dead, drowned. And indeed, if Jack complies and hands over the idol, he will come to no harm. Now if you are finished interrogating me …"

"No, no," Chelsea, held her hands up, palms perpendicular to the deck. "I meant no offense. Those aren't even questions I really wanted to ask. I was wondering if you know anything about this _Langue de Serpente_ that everyone's been talking about? Scarlette mentioned it to us, saying she'd been hearing outrageous rumors on the streets. Jack is being forced to find this treasure to get back Scarlette and the others."

Norrington's face paled just a bit. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well … I want to help Jack and the others … I just figured it wouldn't hurt to ask you if you knew anything. It doesn't seem like something the Royal Navy would have information about, but one can never guess everything …." The look on Norrington's face made Chelsea blanch. "Okay, I guess you don't know anything about it then. I'll just be going."

"Wait," he spoke. "Have a seat."

Chelsea tentatively sat in a high back chair that was very uncomfortable due to its stiff, straight back and look expectantly at Norrington. He scooted his own chair back a bit to better face her and crossed one stocking and knicker clad leg over the other.

"Do I know anything about the _Langue de Serpente_?" he meandered. "Well, indeed I do, and a sight more than just that stupid poem. Have you heard it? Well, it goes like this;

_One spill of gold, a flattened scale _

_One drop of blood, a ruby eye,_

_One sprig of green, an emerald tail,_

_One dreg of black, an onyx lie_

_And at last, the violet thread,_

_Amethyst twines the lines of the dead."_

Chelsea didn't say anything but ran over the riddle in her head a few times. "What does it mean?"

"It's an ingredient list to make a very powerful vaudun charm. Have you ever heard of the Mekwahz?"

Chelsea shook her head. "It sounds like a sort of bird."

"Not quite. The Mekwahz are a cannibal tribe on an island to the South. They deal in voodoo and other grisly magics. They worship at the cave where the _Langue de Serpente_ is kept. I believe some of their magic goes to hide the island as well, for it cannot be found save for using three ingredients on a certain medium. These ingredients are a steady quantity of pure blood, a mermaid's scale, and a Warrior's stone. I know what you're thinking."

Chelsea glanced up at him from staring intently at the surface of the wooden desk. "What am I thinking, Norrington?"

"Mermaids don't exist. I had a hard time believing it at first too."

"No, mermaids exists. Lizzy _is _one."

"Oh … well, alright."

"I was thinking … what is a warrior stone? No one seems to know."

"Oh, that," Norrington smiled slightly. "Well, the Mekwahz language isn't very complicated and they use certain words for many things. They have a word for 'Warrior', which is _Mekrasht_ however, their word of this particular ingredient is also the word for stone, '_liitet'_. They have no word for it, really."

"But … what is it?" Chelsea asked insistently, her tone showing the impatience.

Norrington shrugged. "It doesn't have to be a stone, is all I'm saying. It merely needs to come from a warrior's body, but it isn't a piece of them."

"That does sort of limit the possibilities," Chelsea wondered to herself. "What can come out of a body but not be part of the body. Human waste is out … what is the Mekwahz word for baby? Do they have one?"

He smiled again. "That is not it, but a good guess. I do not speak Mekwahz, but I know certain terms, having come in contact with this Tongue of the Snake myth. It was said that a French sorcerer and his four disciples are the ones that originally protected their treasure with the use of their own magic, some necromancy, and the help of the local merfolk. They apparently tried to convert the Mekwahz to their religion but in doing so endangered their own treasure. You see, the tribe had no sense of individual possession until Christianity was explained to them. It occurred to them then that anything on the islands was theirs … the Frenchmen left them alone after they tried several times to mess with the spells surrounding their fortune.

"It was rumored that these five men became food for the Mekwahz and after that, any foreign man that came to the island was killed and eaten. Women are not threatening to them apparently. The treasure was said to have been stored on the island in a cave until the volcano erupted, shifting the land and changing the magic. Now, the treasure lies under the sea near the coast of the island and the magic that protected the treasure encompasses the islands."

"Well, I feel a little more informed. What are the ingredients?"

"The gold comes from a very dangerous animal with scales, of course. Getting that particular ingredient is nearly impossible. The blood is simply a few drops from someone who is willing to donate and has close ties to death. One who had been cursed for instance would be an excellent source of this blood. The green I never quite figured out myself. The black in itself is another riddle entirely. Only one with knowledge of Mekwahz rituals would know about it. The violet is another one of those mermaid things."

"Wow …" Chelsea said with a flat tone of voice. "You just managed to tell me a lot without actually telling me anything."

"Well," Norrington gave a strange sort of laugh Chelsea had never heard him use. "I don't know everything about it. I'm just reciting things I've read."

"Read where?" Chelsea asked. "No one knows anything! Where would you have read something like this?"

"A witch came through Port Royal not too many years ago with tale of an island to the South, and island full of magic. She was murdered shortly and upon her person was found manuscripts telling tale of this treasure and part of its dealing."

"Murdered?"

"We found her body in the street. She'd been stabbed. Finding no money or jewels on her person, we attributed the death to thieves."

"Could she possibly have been killed because she was a witch?" Chelsea asked. "How accepting are the people of Port Royal?"

"Fairly accepting, seeing as they don't mind Jack Sparrow much."

"Hah, hah."

…

Kristin and Groves were getting along famously. Groves had been married and lost his wife to a sinister plague, though it had been more a marriage of convenience. Kristin was single and sympathetic and they enjoyed each other's company. Her hair had long since lost its temporary straight job and she was in full curl.

"So, you tell us we're going to Isla de Muerta?" Groves asked, giving the helm a quart turn to the north. "Why is Jack headed there?"

"Well, my best guess is he's trying to either lose you guys or get that snake idol Norrington's got his panties in a twist for to get rid of you," she answered, shaking her head and sending her curls flying. "He doesn't much like working with the navy tailing him. He's got to find that treasure or never see Scarlette again. The same goes for Will and Topher. I hope Scarlette's giving that Maxwell guy hell."

"I thought Scarlette was dead?" Groves looked slightly shocked. "She was supposed to have drowned the other night when those skeletal pirates grabbed her from the water."

"I doubt it, honestly," Kristin spoke, pushing hope and confidence into her words. "How many times has someone tried to kill Scarlette or Jack? How many times has anyone succeeded? Barbossa tried at least four times each. And look where he's at, huh? Dead! In pieces, even! It's absolutely grand! She's got to be alive."

"Well, don't speak to soon," Groves added. "I certainly hope Mrs. Sparrow still lives, and also that Barbossa doesn't get up and come after her and her husband again."

"He can't 'get up'," Kristin insisted. "He was beheaded, for one. His body was burned, for two. And his head was tossed to the sharks, and God knows how much they love anything that bleeds. There's no way he can come back."

Groves shrugged, and frowned slightly. "Have you gotten taller?"

And with that, the topic of conversation was back to themselves. Kristin even got him to remove his wig, showing black hair, plaited much in the way Norrington's had been.

…

Scarlette was bored. Out of her mind, ripping pieces of linen, pacing the floor, bored. As soon as Morgan came back in here, she was going to demand that he lock Ruby in here instead.

It was after banging on the door and rushing to the window, noting that Morgan was still ignoring her, when she noticed the book. It was a black leather book, a title embroidered with a deep red thread on the cover, simply _Necromancy_. There was no author's name, no subtitle, nothing. Scarlette, thoroughly interested, opened the book. It fell to a page about a third of the way through. One of the pages had a small fold in the corner. It must have been a page Morgan had marked.

_ The enslavement of a dead deity is an uncommon practice of Necromancers, even for ones who have enough power to do so. One must tie the deity in ritual magic to a solid object, which will both enslave the deity, in other words, allow the one enacting the ritual to give it orders and have it obey, and cast upon whatever object it is tied to, the same characteristics and abilities the deity possesses. The catch, however, is every certain number of days, a death of a certain ilk is needed to both keep the deity under control and keep the characteristics and abilities projected upon the object._

_ If a wrong sort of death is given to the deity, it will commence to annihilate any living being within the immediate area of its sight. Deities will on occasion take deaths of the wrong kind on their own, but one must never offer the wrong victim or face the penalties._

Scarlette read this in fascination. So, the thing on the bow to the necromancers was a god, or a demi-god more likely. The book explained a lot about it. However, it hadn't said anything about the deities biting mortals, or what it did to them afterward. Maybe it had never happened to anyone else.

She flipped through more of the pages, looking for anything interesting, maybe for a case of deity bitten survivors … nothing. However, nearly to the end of the book, was another marked page. It had two spells on it.

Before Scarlette had a chance to read them, she heard footsteps outside the cabin. She shut the book and hopped back to the bed before the door opened. She'd expected Morgan, but it was McMutton and Bert who entered.

"Cap'n says you cin come out now," Bert told her. McMutton just shrugged. Scarlette stood carefully and hurried out the door before they could change their minds. Ruby passed her on her way to the cabin and they glared healthily at each other. She disappeared into the cabin. Bert did not come out but McMutton escorted Scarlette out towards the gunwales. He gave her a friendly smile and went to his duties. She watched him leave and shook her head. The crew had Ruby and the harem to take off their needs and yet some of them still seemed to dote on her instead.

It had been three days since Scarlette had been bitten and cured. Her skin had returned to a somewhat normal color. It had been a golden tan before and was reduced now to a more pasty whitish color, but that was better than what she'd been under the raging zombie blood trying to convert her system. Her hair seemed darker by comparison and her eyes seemed to be rimmed in a thick line of black, making the sockets look sunk.

She looked around the deck, savoring the dusk atmosphere. It painted everything in an almost ageing wash of color, tinting most of the pirates on deck a bluish gray color, giving the reds more clarity.

She walked up to Robin and Shelly, who were busy playing a game of cards. Shelly seemed to be winning, but Robin always practiced a 'make-em'-think-they're-winning' strategy. It was hard to tell what was really happening.

"Hey, kids," Scarlette quipped tiredly. "What's crackin'?"

"Not much, Ryoko," Robin muttered, angry for some reason. Maybe she really _was_ losing.

"Where's Elizabeth?"

"Oh," Shelly looked a little sheepish. "Uh … I'd … rather not say."

Scarlette immediately became alarmed. "What? What's going on! Is she all right?"

"In a manner of speaking." Shelly spoke tenderly, her eyes darting to the more dominant woman beside her.

Robin snorted. "She's sulking below decks because she and I got into a very loud fight about whether or not she ever thought your husband was worth … you know … well, I bet you know."

"What in the blazes are you talkin' about?" Scarlette spoke in a rather flat tone.

"Well …." Shelly began in a timid tone. "I think she means … illicit relations."

"What, sex?"

They both flinched and Robin answered, "Precisely."

"Dear, you can say the word. You do have a child of your own. What were you fighting about?"

"Remember the 'Truth or Dare' night?" Robin asked.

"Only too well," Scarlette answered as Shelly turned green.

"Well, I asked her a 'truth' question. It was 'had she ever thought Jack was … well … attractive'. Physically attractive, that is."

"Boy, I bet that went over splendidly," Scarlette muttered. "Well, what did she say?"

"Well, she answered 'yes' and something about that island scene, if you remember."

"Ah, yes," Scarlette smirked a bit. "Really bad eggs."

"Well, she came at me this morning," Robin continued. "And said something like, 'If my actions that night led you to think at all that I find a pirate scalawag like Jack Sparrow even remotely attractive then you and I may find our friendship on dire stakes.'"

"Wow," Shelly spoke in somewhat awe. "You got it almost word for word."

Scarlette frowned. "Why did she corner you? She usually leaves something alone unless it keeps getting rubbed in her face."

Robin blushed and Scarlette smirked. "Ooh. What'dya do?"

"Well … I might have bribed one of the crewmen to bring it up within hearing distance …." She broke into a fit of laughter.

"She got Klow to start singing about it after giving him eight mugs of grog," Shelly added. "It was a funny song. Part of it went like … '_And that Turner wench of prudish crap, thinks Cap'n Sparrow's worth a nap. A bed for two unbound at last, along the shores with water vast.'_"

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad," Scarlette added. "But I bet she took it to heart. What did she say to Klow?"

"Well, she slapped him," Shelly answered.

"Twice," Robin muttered, placing a card on top of Shelly's pile.

"Yep," Shelly looked down and returned the favor.

"Then she slapped Ruby," Robin smirked.

"Who'd been taunting, no doubt," Scarlette figured.

"Then she stomped over to Robin," Shelly nodded.

"Only because Klow was crying and pointing," Robin defended.

"At you, I surmise," Scarlette spoke.

"And started talking real fast like she does when she's pissed off," Robin added.

"And then she stormed off," Shelly concluded.

"Naturally," Scarlette nodded in understanding. "And now you probably want me to talk to her, eh?"

"I'll say," Robin grinned. "I think part of her embarrassment is the fact that Jack is married to you. She doesn't want to be caught dead or alive knowing anyone who knows she may have had striking thoughts about someone else's spouse."

"I think it probably has more to do with the fact that it's Jack. If Jack ever knew, Elizabeth knows she'd be teased to no end." Scarlette smiled mischievously. "I'd tease her too if I were him."

"You pretty much are him with the possible exception of certain body parts and facial hair," Robin goaded with a smile.

"Possible exception?" Scarlette shrugged. "I'll give her a whirl and see if she'll calm down."

It was not difficult to find Elizabeth. She was in the room where they had first been held captive. She was sitting on a crate near the hull, looking surreptitiously at her palms. Her back was to Scarlette and only the sounds of the ocean just beyond the hull kept her from hearing the smaller woman.

"Hey," Scarlette spoke carefully, kicking another crate over and sitting rather unceremoniously on it beside Elizabeth. "What's goin' on, luv?"

"Is it the futuristic way to make others feel horrible?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes slanted dangerously.

"Hey, don't go pointing fingers at my era," Scarlette raised her hands. "You're the one who made me sleep in a barn because you thought I was a pirate. Not to mention, people hardly ever got hanged in my time, and it certainly took more than some dirty official calling one a pirate or accusing them of a crime to get them killed by the law."

Elizabeth scowled. "At that point in time my entire mindset was that there were only two types of pirates. The first kind, who were committing acts of wanton savagery, and the second, who would indefinitely commit acts of wanton savagery. It was everyone's knowledge that the former would eventually become the latter and vice versa, making a rather devastating circle of destruction and malice."

"Aha," Scarlette blinked. "But had you taken the time to notice, you may have seen that I was not a pirate, nor was I committing acts of 'savagery'. In fact, I was trying very much to get away from Jack and be with my friends."

"You refused to wear a dress," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Yes, but I was afraid of being chased by unruly monsters and woman hungry pirates. Pants were obviously my best option. Just because you'd been living in a woman-equals-dress world didn't mean the same rules applied to me."

Elizabeth just kept scowling. Scarlette sighed and shook her head.

"So Robin was just being a future girl. We deal in a different sort of humor that's pretty brutal sometimes. No one cares that you may have thought at one point that Jack was cute."

"Cute is definitely not the word I would have chosen," Elizabeth spoke firmly.

"Nor I," Scarlette laughed. "But my point stands the same. I don't care, so no one else should. In fact, I happen to think Will is a very handsome man. Just because I can admit that he's cute, doesn't mean I have designs on him. They were teasing you, Elizabeth. A phrase used much in our time, 'Get over it.' should be quite adequate, I think."

Elizabeth just glared. Scarlette shrugged again and rose to leave. "Fine. Be mad. But I'll tell you now, it's pretty ill founded, not to mention stupid. I'll try to make Robin behave but she doesn't listen to me and there's no reason she should."

And with those parting shots, she rose to the upper deck.

…

Isla de Muerta looked fairly odd during the day. It wasn't nearly as foreboding as at night. There was grass on the peaks and moss hung down nearly to the water to mingle with the fog near the entrance. The graveyard of ships even looked more cheery with the sunlight nearly penetrating to dance upon the masts.

Jack was floating off the shore … well, _the Pearl _was anyway. Jack looked forlornly as the white ship drew near, Norrington's head coming closer into focus. Before the naval ship of the line was within fifty yards of _the Pearl_, the air between them shivered and another ship exploded into sight. It was _The Necromancer_.

"What the—" Gibbs shouted. Apparently, the crew of the dead ship was surprised as well for they emitted shouts of fury.

"The magic surrounding the island must have interfered with that ship's powers," Will spoke from Jack's left. "It can't maintain its properties."

"Nay," Gibbs countered. "Just the opposite. Look!"

The figurehead had once again detached itself from the bow, but instead of chasing women around the deck, it had plunged into the water and was having a swim. It surfaced with a great large hammerhead clenched in its jaws.

"Odd things be goin' round here," Gibbs muttered. "I hope it don't rise up an' attack anyone."

"Captain Sparrow," called an annoyed voice from across the way. Norrington was looked a bit angry, as usual. "Are you here to fetch my idol? You best hurry up with it if you're going to get it out of there before the Maxwell wretch decides to set his pet upon you."

"Well if you're so in a bind to have it, why don't ye get your snotty little arse in there yourself, Commodore."

Norrington looked absolutely appalled. He was saved from making a remark. Two loud cries chorused together high above their heads. Everyone looked up to see Sean and Tony attempting to swing from _The Dauntless _to _the Pearl_. They landed in the water and to everyone's vast surprise, the figurehead pushed them from the water to the deck of _the Pearl_.

"Did you see that?" Tony was shouting. "Holy Badgers!"

"My pants are wet," Sean spoke.

"Is that from you, or the drink?"

"I thought you two were supposed to be in Port Royal," Will spoke harshly to the boys.

"Don't yell at us," Sean pointed back at Will.

"Yeah," Tony added. "The girls are here too."

At which, a loud click issued from _The Dauntless_. Norrington held a pistol against Chelsea's head. Everyone gasped. Naval officers didn't do things like this.

"Bring me the idol and everyone goes free. Don't bring it and I'll take this one and the other and have them hung at Gallow's Point. Hurry, Sparrow. My patience is at an all time low."

"Obviously," Jack agreed. "But you can't hang them if they haven't done anything."

"Precisely," Norrington agreed. "But stowing away on a Naval ship and consorting with pirates merits a hanging according to the EITC, which will probably have taken over the entire port upon our return. They've given me ammunition, Jack. Do not make me use it."

Jack sneered. "Lower the rowboat. Put only men in the boat. No sense endangering the ladies with that _thing _in the water." He stepped into the boat as the men were lowering it, along with Will, Topher, and Gibbs. They began to row towards the cave.

As they passed under _The Necromancer_, Jack looked up to see the silhouette of a long haired female leaning over the gunwales. He smiled at her. She gave a small wave and was promptly yanked back by a dark hand.

"I'm going to enjoy killing that little bastard," Jack growled.

…

Once inside the cave, the four men began searching for the idol. Gibbs found it, perched between a laden treasure chest and a statuette of Athena. Jack examined it for a moment. It was more than a snake. It was a dragon.

It was made mostly of gold, yes, but parts of it were made of violently bright stones. The tail was carved of emerald, the wings of obsidian. Its eyes shone red as rubies and the forked tongue spitting from its many fanged mouth was a thin vein of amethyst. At the base of the idol sat a skeleton enveloped by the gold.

As they scrutinized it, the statuette of Athena slipped slightly, making them jump. Jack and Will looked at the goddess of wisdom and both saw her almost smile. Meeting each other's eyes, they backed away from the creepy Greek statuette, idol in hand. No one else seemed to have noticed anything.

"Creepy lookin' thing," Gibbs mentioned as Jack held it up to the light streaming through one of the holes in the wall. "What's he so hot to get this for?"

"I don't know," Topher spoke. "But I don't think we should give it up. I mean, look. Remember that bloody rhyme thing? Emerald sprig, amethyst lines? It's got rubies for eyes, for cryin' out loud. What if we need it for something?"

"I think we should keep it," Will agreed. There's no telling with this one what will get us where. It's nothing but a mad treasure hunt."

Jack was contemplating all of these words of advice and smirked. "Of course, this means that Norrington will tail us to no end."

"So, we lose him," Topher grinned.

"Nay," Gibbs spoke. "He's got Miss Russell and Miss Thornburg aboard _The Dauntless_. That creature eats women, right? They won't be rescued like the boys were ifin they jump overboard. You heard 'im. If he don't get this piece, he's hangin' 'em."

"Why would Norrington hang defenseless women?" Will shook his head. "It doesn't make any sense."

"It does with the Company in town," Gibbs told him with a frightful expression. "Those committee men would hang their own grannies for piracy if only to fill their quota."

"You're absolutely right, of course," Jack nodded. His teeth glinted in the cave mischievously. "However, giving him the idol now doesn't mean we can't get it back at some later date. We don't know for sure that we need this thing."

"So we give him the idol," Will assessed. "Then what?"

"Then you find me my bloody treasure," Morgan growled, scaling the mountain of treasure. His long black coat seemed so dim compared to the mounds of gold glittering around him.

Topher and Will gripped Gibb's arms as the older man tried to lurch forward and attack Morgan.

"You bastard! You killed Anamaria! I'll see you in hell, you bloody wretch! I hope your insides turn to Styrofoam!"

"Get the hell out of here," Jack growled. "Or I'll let him after you."

Morgan smirked. "Yes. I must get back to Scarlette anyhow." He turned and stomped down the hill. Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he could feel a wave of scalding heat come from the Captain of _The Black Pearl_. Jack's eyes were nothing but black holes filled with flame. He had started down the mountain of treasure towards the _Brigand Noir_ but stopped, hand gripping his sword so tightly his knuckles were white with the effort.

Morgan smiled and tipped his hat at Jack, grinning. He left by rowboat, a few men in the boat as well. Jack stared on as the lapping of waves in the small cave grew less.

"I'm going to kill him," he growled. "Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but that little bugger is going to die by my hand, so help me."

"Oh, I'll do more than help you," Gibbs snarled. "I want to slice me blade in as well, maybe take out an eye with me pistol. He took me best friend in the world and he's goin' ta pay fer it." The other three men pondered for two seconds that maybe Gibbs had felt more for their former Quartermistress than met the eye.

They got into the rowboat and Gibbs and Will rowed, Jack and Topher, the better shots, canvassing the surface for the figurehead. They were relieved to see it attached once again to _The Necromancer_'s bow. Its head followed them, however. Caudal fins sliced the granite grey surface, making the gentle waves choppy.

"These bloody hammerheads have gone insane," Topher observed. "You think it's that thing?"

"I think it's the blood," Jack assessed. "It snatched up a couple, probably left scraps and now the sharks are excited. At least that's what I hope."

"You think someone's gone into the water?" Will asked.

"Crossin' me fingers," Jack spoke. "Chelsea and Kristin are too smart, really. Leavin' one of _The Necromancer'_s or naval blokes. Unless those idiots jumped back in."

"I don't think Sean and Tony would jump _back _into the water," Topher said, grabbing the anchor line alongside _the Pearl_. "I don't think they're _that _stupid." Hooks attached to ropes lowered and they tethered the rowboat to them. The men hoisted them back up and Jack held up the idol for Norrington to see.

"Follow us back to Tortuga," Jack spoke to the Commodore. "I want those two girls safe and I don't want to do the trade here. That thing on their bow has a preference for female blood and if one falls into the water, well, I'd rather not bet on what will finish them first, the figurehead …" he looked down into the choppy water. "Or the sharks."

"Very well, Mr. Sparrow," Norrington nodded. "Off to Tortuga, then. After which, you'll be free to search for your treasure."

There was a lot of jockeying going on as _the Pearl _pulled out of the dead bay. The sky imediately got lighter once they were out of range and everyone watched in amazement as _The Necromancer _bled into nothingness. All that was left was an oval shaped trough in the waves.

Jack looked at his compass, snapped it shut, and gave the helm a flick. Back to Turtle Island.

…

Two days later, Scarlette found herself back in the cabin. She slept most of the first day and resumed her pacing upon waking. It didn't take her long to find the book again. She flipped through the dusty tome and found an old piece of fabric, charred beyond recognition. The page it marked had a complex spell written upon its yellowed paper.

_Ingredients for Anti-Conflagrated Zombies_

_ (note; not to be attempted by amateur Necromancers. _

_Great deal of skill and power needed.)_

_ -Sample of clothing or other paraphernalia belonging to subject_

_ -Ashes and blood of subject_

_ -Blood of mortal enemy of subject_

_ -Object in which to anchor subject_

Scarlette frowned. Was this a spell to make zombies that couldn't be burned? These were quite strange ingredients. None of it seemed logical. She didn't get a chance to read the passage explaining the spell or the directions. Morgan burst into the room and she moved away from the book.

"A bit of light reading?" he smiled. He flicked the cover closed. "I found this in London. Quite interesting, really. I didn't know much about my talents until I read this book. I'm what you'd call a self-taught Necromancer. No one instructed me but this book. In fact, my grandfather discouraged my spell learning. He said I'd be evil." Morgan grinned.

"What does the spell with the cloth marking it do?" Scarlette asked, seeing as he was being so amiable towards her. "Fire proof zombies?"

"Not exactly," he shrugged. "I'm having trouble getting the ingredients for that one. I have everything but the ashes and blood." He scratched his head and frowned. "It's unlikely I'll ever get those ingredients, though. Wishful thinking on my part."

"Why?" Scarlette asked. "Why are they so hard to come by?"

"Well," Morgan gave her a contemplative look. "I can't exactly tell you. Adversarial secrecy, you understand. But I can tell you that those ingredients are most likely destroyed or lost forever and have been for years. It's not like I can go and pick up the blood I need from the market in Spain or anything like that. It's a very specific spell."

"Uh-huh," Scarlette spoke blandly. "You sure you don't want to tell me?"

"Positive."

"Fine. Why did you come in here?"

"Ruby has promised to be nice," he answered, shaking his head. "I figured we'd try it out. If she tries to kill you, challenge her to a duel. She'll back off from anything that has to do with blades."

"Aw, you mean I can't clock her?"

"Not unless you want to end up tied to the mast again, or worse, tied ankle and wrist."

"Keelhauling, huh?" she surmised. "Nasty work, that."

"Indeed," he answered. "Funny, that the navy practices it more than pirates do. Don't hit her, Scarlette."

"Well," she began, smirking. "If it were an accident, and she … I don't know … tripped, maybe … I wouldn't get in trouble would I?"

He raised a thick eyebrow. "Bloody Sparrows."

…

Ruby was leaning very suggestively over the peg that held up the helm, her décolletage framed deliciously by a vibrant pale red number. There was nothing pink about this outfit. It was definitely light red. And it wasn't really a dress … more like a toga or something. Jukes was having trouble keeping the ship on course, then again, he had eaten some bad fruit earlier and he could have just been concentrating on not soiling himself. It may have had nothing to do with boobs at all.

When Ruby grew bored of flaunting, she went to poke at the girls. Elizabeth and Robin were both still sulking on opposite sides of the ship. Shelly was loosing her insides to the sea somewhere so the other girls were alone. Scarlette was watching everything with vague interest, glad that the little blonde disaster hadn't noticed her yet.

She went to bother Elizabeth first. "You're husband's real cute, you know," she began, sitting beside her. "I'd love to give him a tumble. Do you think if you die, he'll give me a chance?"

"Dear God," Eva gasped. "Someone should shoot her." Ruby gave the woman a dirty look and Eva shrugged, scaling the rigging.

Elizabeth looked aghast. "What did you say to me?"

"I think you heard me, dear," Ruby smiled, her face stuck in a sickeningly sweet mask.

"You would be mistaken to continue along the lines of this conversation," Elizabeth spat at the blonde, her anger getting the better of her.

Ruby shrugged. "Mistakes will be made. What will _you_ do about it?"

Elizabeth launched herself at Ruby and a flurry of anger. Scarlette got there before anything too bad happened. She pulled Elizabeth off and held her at bay.

"Bugger off, Ruby," Scarlette snapped. "Stop picking fights with ladies. Go find someone of your ilk to bother or I may be forced to defend William Turner's honor."

"Like you?" she asked. "A lady would never marry a pirate."

Scarlette grinned. "Yeah? I'm so hot and bothered by your statement that I believe I shall kill myself. Bitch, I'm not from this time. I'm a lady by all rights. I married one man and nothing has ever swayed me. I haven't met anything that will, either. You, on the other hand … how many hands would it take to tally the men you've bedded in the last … I don't know … month?"

"Not many," Robin added, coming onto the scene. "She's been stuck on this ship for most of it. I'd wager maybe three hands."

"If you think you can gang up on me, you're wrong," Ruby smirked. "I will see you all dead, and then I'll take your men."

Scarlette and Robin laughed, but Elizabeth took a flying leap at Ruby again. Scarlette saw what was about to happen, as Ruby pulled out a pistol.

"Shit," she whispered, kicking in a rather unbalanced maneuver. The gun flopped to the deck and she and Ruby dove for it. In the confusion, Ruby managed to fling herself overboard.

"She did that on purpose," Elizabeth growled. And then she spat overboard. Robin ogled at her.

"Did you just actually spit?"

"Yes, what of it?" Elizabeth snapped. "She insulted me."

Robin and Scarlette exchanged a glance. Morgan came running suddenly, grabbing Scarlette and twisting her around.

"Where the hell is Ruby?"

"She just flopped overboard," Scarlette answered, raising her hands. "I didn't do it, I swear!"

"She's trying to incriminate Ryoko again," Robin added.

"Shit! The figurehead just detached and is out there," Morgan leaned over the gunwales. "It'll kill her!"

"Do something!" Bert exclaimed. "You can control it!"

Morgan put his palms out and shouted in a strange language. It sounded like Latin, but his accent was rather guttural. The figurehead did not stop but continued stroking towards the floundering Ruby. She glared at Morgan. "Stop wasting time and get me out of here before it decides I'm lunch."

"Odds, bods, hammer and tongs," Morgan's face had paled. "It's not responding! How is this happening?"

"Necromancer brutality, I'd say," Scarlette grinned, stripping her shirt off and dropping it to the coat she'd already removed. Before anyone could stop her, she leapt to the railing, flailed for a second, then executed a near perfect swan dive, looking sort of like a pirate porn star in her skintight leather pants and her simple black bra.

"What the hell does she think she's doing?" Morgan was ranting, pulling out tufts of hair and slamming things around. "If it's not listening to me, it's bound to eat them both! What the hell is she doing!"

Elizabeth and Robin were glued to the railing, holding onto each other with worry, their earlier dispute washed away with their fear. Scarlette hadn't surfaced yet and the monster had stopped swimming, only the top of its head and its red eyes above the water.

Ruby shrieked and disappeared under the water. A moment later, the monster reared up, splashing everyone on the deck and soaking the closest to the bone. It crashed back down and sank. The waves settled back to where they had been and nothing surfaced.

"Dear God!" Morgan cried. "They're all dead! We're all going to die when that thing resurfaces! Shit!"

With those words, a loud roaring sound filled the air and crescendoed until the deck vibrated with it. "Everybody down!"

The figurehead broke the surface so violently that _The Necromancer _rocked back on the sea. Scarlette was gripping the bones between the enormous scapulas, an unconscious Ruby held about the waist with her right arm. She gave out an earsplitting battle cry as the thing settled back into the water. It cruised to the bow and climbed upon the bow. Before anything could happen, Scarlette swung the comatose girl onto the deck and followed. The figurehead slowed and stopped moving, its arms outstretched towards the crew, smoke rising from its nostrils. The eyes dimmed and went out, the monster finally dormant.

Scarlette shook her hair out and wound it, squeezing the water out. She was standing in nothing but her black pants, boots and a nice black bra she'd picked up on her last trip, her cleavage framed for all to see. She gingerly picked up the shirt she'd tossed and slipped into it, adding the coat. When she turned, the crew gasped.

"Holy crap!" Jericho declared. "She looks like Jack!"

Robin frowned. "What happened to your hair?"

Scarlette's eyebrows furrowed. "Is it that tangled? Or is there something stuck in it?"

"No," Robin answered. "It's black."

"What?" Scarlette pulled a wet lock of hair into sight. Before she could assess her hair's condition, Morgan spun her around and let loose with a barrage of shouting.

"Tossed her overboard! Jumped overboard! How the hell would I have explained to Jack that you'd jumped to your death? And I told you not to fight with her! God knows what she'll do when she wakes up! What if she orders your death! You can't pull that trick again. You won't be able to get out of it. And while we're at it, _WHY AREN'T YOU DEAD_?"

"Disappointed?" Scarlette flipped her wet hair over her back and fixed a glare upon Morgan. "Stop screaming at me. I had a rough childhood and yelling makes me crazy sometimes. You won't like me when I'm crazy."

Robin laughed at this. Future humor, I guess.

"And she can't order my death," Scarlette added as a matter of factly. "I just saved her _life_. And Elizabeth's. She was going to shoot my friend … and she threw herself overboard after I knocked the gun away. She owes me a life debt and if she breaks that, I dare say this crew will get rid of her. And as for me not being dead," Scarlette smirked. "I guess your deity just wasn't hungry today."

Morgan would have liked to argue, but the monster's behavior had been so strange, he wanted to look into it before getting into a debate with the Sparrow woman. Instead, he felt rather like threatening her. "Your grandstanding is going to kill me." He grabbed her bare arm and when his skin touched hers, there was a zing of power. He stepped back as if he'd been shocked and looked at her.

"What have you done?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't know what you mean. Now, take your wench and don't touch me or you'll pull back a stump."

He shook his head and knelt to the wet blonde on the deck. He picked up Ruby and took her to the cabin, slamming the door behind him.

…

"What the blazes was goin' on out there, Cap'n?" Gibbs exclaimed.

"Not sure," Jack answered, snapping up his scope. "That thing went mad again. It seems to have stopped now. No tellin' what's happening over there. Just as long as Scarlette and the others are fine, I suppose it doesn't matter to us."

Little did he know, just about everything that was happening on _The Necromancer_ was going to matter a great deal to him.

…

Well … a lot's happened since I started this chapter. I started it some time in 2004. … Well, it's 2006 now. Yeah, I know. It's April 13th, 2006. I was separated from my computer for about six months … but before that … I don't know. I lost touch with many of the characters and had other things on my mind … like moving and graduating. Since this chapter began, I've moved three times, turned 19, went and joined a drum corps (take THAT! I _CAN_ march contra!) got my GED, cut my hair (tear) … yeah. Lots of stuff's been happening. In the real world, everyone but me seems to be engaged. This includes Lizzy, Robin, and Morgan! He's going to have a kid! Yikes! Kami I think is somewhere in Texas … Yeesh. I seem to be left out of everything. Jericho has vanished …

And now, for the quotes. I will see if I can remember who said what even after two years of writing them.

"Life Saver …" ~ I believe this was Jericho.

"Shaved heads …" ~ Definitely Chelsea. She shaved her head.

"List of Musicals …" ~ Lizzy all the way.

"Damn cheerleaders …" ~ Probably Ryoko. Could have been Heather … who knows.

**And now for revisited … it is still February of 07. **


	9. Chapter VIII: Scary Monsters Super Creep

Ah, well. Here it is. The first chapter begun in over two years. April 14th, 2006. I'll have you know that the Pirates of the Caribbean ride is closed until June. They're putting the stars in, like Depp and Rush. The Premiere will be at Disneyland. I don't think I'll be there. I'm going on tour again … I'm not sure where I'll be on the date for the premiere … maybe in Idaho or something. Meh. I wanted to finish this fic before #2 came out, but it seems unlikely.

Davy Jones is in the next one. Cool. I never even thought about making Davy Jones into an actual character. Whoever thought that one up deserves a hug.

No more quotes. It's been too long.

**Chapter VIII –Scary Monsters and Super Creeps**

(If you can tell me where that title comes from, you get a prize!)

…

_The Pearl _and _The Dauntless _pulled into Tortuga's harbor at about noon. Norrington, Gillette and Fomosa were on the dock before Jack, Will, Topher, and Gibbs had lowered the gangplank. Chelsea and Kristin were there with the officers.

The golden idol was in a leather rucksack on Will's shoulder. The trade was made and the girls happily accompanied Jack and the men onto _the Pearl_.

"Since were here," Jack announced. "I'll allow one day furlough. Be back by six tomorrow morning. We're leaving early." That, and he wanted to talk to Libussa. The easiest way to find her would be to cross into the woods and enter bandit territory.

Once he'd let the crew know the shifts, he took off across the island, Will and Topher quick on his heels, until he entered the jungle. It didn't take long for a legion of bandits to find the three men.

"Well, well," the leader of the group grinned. "What have we here?"

"Take me to see Unorna," Jack demanded. "I am Captain Jack Sparrow and I am looking for her sister, Libussa."

"Interesting," the leader spoke. "Have you any proof that you are who you say you are?"

Jack pulled up his sleeve and showed off the sparrow tattoo. The bandit nodded and addresses the other two. "Who're they?"

"The one with the ponytail is Will Turner, son of Bootstrap. The other one is Christian Topher … I don't expect you to know him." He left off that Topher was employed by the EITC. That would not bode well.

"Son of Bootstrap? How is that old codger doing?"

"Fine, I suppose," Will answered. "He's in Port Royal."

"Very well," the bandit gripped his reins. "Follow us." He toed the horse and it gave an about-face. The three other bandits followed suit and Jack, Will, and Topher followed them deeper into the jungle.

They didn't have very far to go before another band came into sight. This time, Jack recognized someone. Makeo dismounted and ran over to him, slapping his shoulder. "Where have you been, Sparrow? Where's your little wife?"

"She's been kidnapped," Jack growled.

Makeo gave a grimace. "It wasn't me this time."

"We're going to the caves. I need to speak with Libussa."

"Right. We're getting close." Makeo jumped up onto his horse and led the three off to the caves. The first group of bandits had been dismissed to their portion of the jungle and the three who'd been with Makeo stayed put.

Makeo tied his horse at the foot of the mountain and they continued up, hiking until they reached the mouth of the cave.

It hadn't changed much. Unorna sat on her stone chair, dozing in the warmth of the Caribbean. Makeo cleared his throat and she popped awake, sputtering. She fixed an eye on her son and turned her attention to Jack with an utter lack of surprise.

"Well if it isn't Jack Sparrow. How are you, my boy? Healthy children, I'd say?"

"Indeed," Jack said with a smirk. Libussa and Unorna, the sisters weird, had predicted that Scarlette would be the key to finding his heir. They turned out to be right … in a sort of more direct way.

"And Scarlette is on the dead ship," Unorna continued. "Don't worry about her. She's just fine. If I were to give her advice, it would be to read, nothing more. And you," she looked at Topher. "I feel very sorry for you."

Topher paled, which was quite a feat because his skin was close to white, even after being on a ship for over a week. "Why?"

"All in good time," Unorna smiled. "I will tell you, however, not to throw anything away." She winked at Will, who managed to blush. "You look much like your father. Very handsome. He has not written me, by the way. When you see him, tell him I wish to hear from him."

"I shall," Will answered sheepishly, his eyebrow twisted a tad.

Jack cleared his throat suggestively. "Is your sister about? Or perhaps you can help me."

"Oh, I can help jou just fine," Libussa spoke up, staggering into the cave. She took a seat next to her sister and they fixed equally crazed looks on the visitors. Makeo excused himself.

"Can I kill him yet?" Jack asked wringing his hands in the sash at his belt. "I'd really like to do that soon."

They smiled simultaneously. "Dere's no need at dis point, dear," Libussa answered. "Scarlette's got it quite cobered. But yes, jou may kill him wid'out consequence. Howeber, jour more pressing matter. How are jou goin' to get to de _Langue de Serpent_?"

Jack smirked again. "I was hoping you could give me a hint."

Libussa sighed fondly. "Jou hab de blood, de scale and de medium. Use dose wit' de idol and before jou leabe for de location, jou will hab de t'ird ingredient needed to find de island."

All three of them men gave each other frightened looks. Damn. "Norrington's got the idol," Will gasped.

"You never told me I needed that!" Jack exclaimed.

"Anamaria did," Topher brought up. "She said something about not giving up the idol. Although she couldn't say why."

Jack smacked his forehead, making his tricorn askew. "Bloody hell."

"This gives you an excuse to go to Port Royal," Unorna smiled. "You should bring your children to us. We will take care of them while you search for this treasure. And you will want Bootstrap with you. I hear the Company is in Port Royal. You must be careful, Jack Sparrow."

Jack pondered this. "What do you think, boys? Shall we bring the midgets here? They'll be safer here than with just Bootstrap at home, and you know how he hates to miss out on adventures like these."

"I'm all for it," Topher agreed. "They'd better watch out for their stuff, is all I'm saying. My kid grabs everything."

Will nodded. "I do not think Elizabeth would agree, but she isn't here." He gave a little shrug and an uncharacteristic smirk. "They _would _be safer here."

"What about the Perkins' kid?" Topher asked. "Lenore?"

"We'll ask them when we get back to the ship," Jack answered. "Although what good it would do, I'm not sure. I think mermaids are immortal, aren't they? And if Lenore's parents are mermaids, it would make a lot of sense for her to be one as well."

"Wouldn't David be considered a Merman?" Will asked somewhat absently.

Jack just smirked.

…

Norrington was smiling as he put the idol in a safe within the cabin. Fomosa was starting at him.

"Sir, forgive me for saying so," he began. "But I have not seen you this elated since someone set fire to Gillette's wig."

"That bloody Sparrow cannot find his precious island without this piece of finery. If he can't find the island, he and that Maxwell character will have a fight. One of them is bound to die. If Jack kills Maxwell, we can arrest and hang him. If Morgan kills Jack, Scarlette will kill Morgan, and there won't be any more pirate threat in the Caribbean."

"Wouldn't Scarlette take over the title as Captain Sparrow?"

"I suppose we'll just have to kill her too," Norrington grinned. Something wasn't right here. Norrington was acting very strange.

Eli Fomosa gave his commander an incredulous look. "Are you feeling all right, sir? First you hold a gun to a lady's head, now you're plotting the deaths of multiple people …"

"Just fine, Major Fomosa," Norrington spoke in clipped tones. "Now if you will excuse me, I am going to lie down for a bit."

"Yes, sir," Fomosa didn't really want to stay in a room with the Commodore any longer, anyhow. He traipsed down to the galley and sat at a long table with four other officers and a sailor. The officers were (by last name only) Gomez, Anton, Christianson, and Aguilar. The sailor was by name of Reeves.

"I think there's something wrong with the Commodore," Fomosa sighed as soon as he sat. The cook slopped down a bowl of soup that looked to have indefinable origins.

"What makes you say that?" Aguilar asked, spooning around some of the larger lumps that looked perhaps to be potatoes.

"Was he throwing up?" Reeves asked energetically. "I'll bet he was real sick. I'll bet his face was green. Was there any blood? How about chunks? Was it liquid or solid? Geez. My Aunt Tilly got real sick once after eating one of her carrot cakes. Turns out she'd baked it with a file in the middle for my brother in jail. That was pretty bad. She hadn't cleaned it or anything and my uncle Bob, who had real nasty feet, had just filed his toenails—"

"Reeves," Anton spoke deliberately, slapping his hand against the wooden table. "If you continue, I'm going to be sick all over you. And then I'll make you clean it up without a mop."

"No," Fomosa continued on the previous topic. "I don't think he's sick … at least not physically. He's just … strange. He isn't consulting the law to get rid of the pirates but he's trying to plot so they'll kill each other. And I heard him say that if Scarlette Sparrow takes over as Captain of _the Pearl_, he'll have her killed just as easily as he would Jack."

"Hmm," Christianson swallowed a mouthful of the brown gunk. "That does sound a little odd. But he _has _tried to hang Scarlette before. That was prior to her having children, of course."

"I think he went a little batty since he was gone awhile back," Aguilar spoke. "He and his wife, Diana, went off about a year ago, remember?"

"Yeah," Anton nodded. "That's when she died."

"Yes, Diana was killed on that trip," Aguilar agreed. "I think that must be what it did it to him. He brought back that old guy … what was his name? Broccoli, or something?"

"Old Cheese," Anton supplied.

"Oh, yeah. Said Old Cheese had killed his wife. Threw him in jail. Never did get around to hangin' him. Seems like he escaped when the jail blew last time."

Fomosa was taking all this in. He was relatively new to the on sea group. Mostly he'd served in Fort Charles and other locations. "Where did they go?"

Everyone shrugged. Christianson spoke. "No one knows. Somewhere in the South. He came back with that snake on that trip, too. Gave it to his sister in Spittlefield."

…

Jack and the others were in town until late night, early morning. As Jack and Gibbs were standing on the dock at about 5:30 am, they were approached by none other than Jericho.

"Before you shoot me, let me tell you that killing me will not hurt Morgan, in fact, if you kill me, something bad will happen to one of the hostages. I am just here to get an update. Morgan wants to know why we're back in Tortuga and where we will be going next. He thinks you are wasting time."

"Tell your despicable captain ta shut his trap," Gibbs growled. Jack put a hand on his friend's arm and gave Jericho a look.

"We're going to Port Royal to get something needed to find the location. After that, we should be on our way. Tell him if he lays a hand on any of those hostages, he's as good as dead."

Jericho nodded and went running off to board his invisible ship.

"Can't wait 'til I get me hands on one of them," Gibbs growled. He gripped the baggie around his neck and squeezed. Jack gave it a look.

"What is it you've got in there, Gibbs?"

"Memorabilia, Cap'n," he growled, grinning a bit. "Souvenirs of a job finished, nothin' more. I'll be addin' a bit o' that bastard 'fore this journey's o'er."

This didn't really answer Jack's question but he didn't press it further. Gibbs' bag of trinkets could keep their secrets.

…

A few days later, the parade sailed into Port Royal. It was the first time in a long time Jack had sailed into port under cover of darkness. Since he wasn't sure what Norrington would make of him being in the harbor, he sailed into the back cay. _The Necromancer _followed, freshly sated and truly invisible.

Jack, Will, David, Lizzy, Topher, and a few choice others made their way through the jungle and into town. Upon passing the graveyard, they noticed a small group of people hanging about. They were too far away to see any faces however. They reached the Turner estate and let themselves in without alerting the butler. What they met on the stairs however made them smile. Bootstrap was standing on the landing with a very large gun pointed down at them. He eased up when he recognized the intruders.

"Well, hello there mates," he smiled. "Haven't had many visitors as pleasant as you."

"What's been happening?" Will asked as his father came down the stairs and they lit the sconces.

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary," Bootstrap answered. "The whores looking for Jack wanting to know if he's single now that Scarlette's been kidnapped, Elizabeth's father, wanting to know what the hell is going on, Norrington's kid Jonathan, wanting to play with the kids … that kid gives me the willies. No murderous pirates however … and no nosy naval officers either. Just nosy Company officials. A Mr. Mercer came by about a week ago, looking for Will. Anamaria was buried last week."

"Buried?" Gibbs exclaimed. "She wanted to be taken out ta sea!"

"Well, you did leave in a hurry," Bootstrap added. "It was sort of an emergency. Maybe something can be arranged. Either way, we should … visit tomorrow. I know you probably have to leave again immediately …."

"You're comin' with us," Gibbs told him. "We're takin' the little ones to Tortuga to stay with Unorna, who wants you to write, by the way, and then we're off to find that bloody treasure for that walkin' dead man."

"Dead man?" Bootstrap posed.

"He's dead," Gibbs growled. "He jus' don't know it, yet."

"Ah," Bootstrap sat down and looked at them. Lizzy and David cuddled on the divan. Jack and Will remained standing whereas Topher and Gibbs relaxed at once. He fixed his eyes on the two men he was most afraid to disappoint. Jack and Will were looking at him as well, but their eyes were saying different things.

"I don't think I can go with you," he told them, sighing. "I'm too old for this sort of thing."

There was silence for a moment. Jack's eyes darkened even further and he scrutinized Bootstrap's face as Will spoke to him.

"But father … we really do need your help. That man has Elizabeth! I vowed not to rest until she was safe, but I need help to save her, just as Topher and Jack need help. Your help. With Anamaria's death, _the Pearl_ needs a sea hand to take the position of Quartermaster as well."

"And what do you mean by 'too old', mate." Gibbs asked. "We're about the same age, Bill."

Jack was still watching Bootstrap as the others added their opinions to the mix. Bootstrap eventually met the captain's eyes and only then did Jack speak, his voice cutting through the others.

"What is it, Bill Turner," he asked. "What is it that keeps you fettered here on land? What fear have you of the ocean, mate?" And that was it, really. Since he had recovered his friend from the bandit camp on Tortuga, Bootstrap Bill had expressed a regular fear of the sea. No one could really explain it, but Jack had his suspicions, based on his own previous experiences.

"I guess being tied to a cannon and left to sink to the depths can instill quite the horror in a man."

Bootstrap grunted and shifted his weight to lean against the arm of the couch. "I do not fear the sea, Jack. I am afraid of the ramifications of a decision I made long ago."

"It's funny what a man will do in the absence of hope," Jack's voice seemed to slither.

"No," Bootstrap answered. "Never had I the absence of hope, but the barest glint of it. And that is when one is most damned."

Jack smiled. "How did you get off the bottom of the ocean, Bill Turner?"

Bootstrap just looked at him, his face sad. Tragedy was written there, but it was self-inflicted.

"I fear the devil himself, and what he would do to those I care for, Jack. I cannot go with you. To do so would endanger everyone."

Jack nodded. "I don't mind. We'll deal with your problem when it comes, if it does. Being a pirate crew, I'll put it to vote here. All who don't mind putting themselves in danger for ol' Bootstrap here to accompany us, raise a hand." Jack did so, as did everyone else. The others were all a bit confused, but they shrugged it off. Gibbs was the only one who seemed suitably reluctant to agree to what he didn't fully understand, but he waived his suspicions upon seeing the sadness somewhat leak away from Bootstrap's face at their support.

"That settles it," Jack smiled. "Welcome back to the crew, mate." He shifted his own weight to one hip and raised his hands, slapping his thighs in an odd gesture. "Besides … Devil seems like a relative term."

…

They sent Will out early, accompanied by little Will to see if they could possibly finesse the idol from Norrington. Will met with him at 8:30 in the morning. There was a man dressed all in black sitting in the room with Norrington. His clothing was the same as Topher's, which meant he belonged to the mercenary branch of the EITC. His face was slightly pitted perhaps from some illness he'd long recovered from and his expression looked more severe for the pock marks. His eyes scrutinized both men. He was not introduced and Norrington was doing his best to ignore his presence.

"What is it, Mr. Turner?" Norrington asked tiredly. He didn't think it was going to be anything good. Neither of them had been back in town for very long.

"Well," Will began, his eyes nervously glancing to the man. "You see, I am on a quest to save Elizabeth but to do so, I need that idol you confiscated from the pirates *dirty bastards* the other night. I would be eternally grateful if you would lend me the idol."

Norrington raised an eyebrow at this. "Do you think I am a stupid man, Mr. Turner?"

The man in black gave a small laugh but did not speak otherwise.

"No, sir," Will shook his head. "I think you are a very smart man, and an understanding one at that. If Diana were missing, you would—"

"Beside the point, Mr. Turner," Norrington waved the mention of his dead wife away. "You are in league with the pirates. You are going to try to swindle me again and then where will I be? I cannot relinquish the idol to you."

"But sir," Will spoke, trying not to lose his temper. "Elizabeth is somewhere out there and unless we have the idol we cannot get her back."

"Well, you're going to have to think outside the box on this one and find that island by yourself," Norrington told him curtly. Will was about to shout but something clicked. He closed his mouth and fixed a look at Norrington.

"How do you know we need it to find an island?"

Norrington paled just a tad. "Everyone knows that."

"We didn't," Will answered. "Not until the voodoo sisters in Tortuga told us. We really need that idol, Norrington. I think you know more about all this than you're letting on."

The man in black spoke then. "Why not ask your pirate friend to use his compass to find this island for which you are searching?"

Will looked at the man in black. "We're not looking for Isla de Muerta." The man in black smiled again but said nothing more.

Norrington didn't look like he was going to budge so Will gave his son a look and a nudge. The kid went up to the desk, opened his mouth, and started screaming.

"Waaaah! I want my mommy! I can't get her 'cause Bignose Man is being a pisser! Waaaah!" He did some more inventive shouting and crying and a large vein appeared on Norrington's forehead. Another officer looked in and immediately ducked out. The man in black was laughing outright now.

Norrington's face was getting redder by the second and suddenly Little Will stopped screamed. He gave the Commodore a truly evil look and said simply, "Gee. I have to poop."

Norrington immediately stood and pointed to the door. "Out!" The Wills left, grinning. Norrington was doing his best not to choke. When Will had been a baby, Norrington made the mistake of picking him up without a diaper on. When the kid had finished, they'd had to burn Norrington's pants.

"What was that all about, then?" the man in black asked in a sinister tone.

"Nothing, Mr. Mercer. Absolutely nothing."

"He's in league with the Sparrows, isn't he?"

"If that's who you're looking for, I would wait your turn," Norrington sighed.

"Lord Beckett was most adamant about bringing them to justice, Commodore."

Norrington just looked at Mercer. "I can't help you. I can't help him, either. If I refuse him the idol _and_ incriminate him so that you might get to Jack, then his wife and another woman _will _die."

Mercer pursed his lips and didn't remark. Outside, Will and his son were heading back.

Will looked down at his son and nodded once they were out of the fort. Little Will smiled and spoke. "Don't get used to this. I don't want to have the reputation of being a crybaby."

"Just wait here and see where he's hiding it," Will answered. "He's bound to increase guard on it or move it somewhere now that he knows we're after it." And with that, Will left the Fort.

…

They congregated at the graveyard and placed flowers at the grave where Anamaria was resting. The dirt over her grave was rough, as if it had been freshly dug. A week was relatively fresh. They didn't have much experience in the matter and hadn't been there for the actual burial so no one could tell if this was normal or not.

"Bloody bastards," Gibbs growled, wiping a tear. "The cross ain't even straight. Bunch o' nutters in this town."

By the time they returned to the Turner Estate, Little Will was back with a report on the hiding place of the idol.

"He's got it hiding somewhere in the Governor's mansion," the kid told everyone. "On the ground floor, too. I didn't see much after that, Grandpa Swann spotted me and had me stay for tea. I had to listen to a weird guy threaten him."

"Did you see what room it was in?" Will asked. Little Will nodded enthusiastically. (Let's just call him Liam from now on, eh, kids?)

"It's in that dining room place, just off the foyer on the right."

"Great," Will smiled. "We can go get it right now, I'd wager. And then we'd be off by sunset."

"All right, Captain," Jack quipped. "Since you're so eager to lead, how 'bout you be the first out the door."

"I didn't mean to step on any toes," Will said meekly.

"It is a good plan," Jack grinned. "You and the kids go visit and you distract the Governor while one of your little doxies snags the idol." He looked about. "I'll keep the navy suitably distracted in the meantime."

"Maybe we should send Damian," Topher smiled. "He's good at hiding things."

"Indeed," Will nodded. "Alright."

"Everyone get your things together," Jack announced. "We'll be out of here by sundown."

And they began scurrying about.

Will and the kids left about half an hour after the announcement had been made. They returned within the hour and Will didn't look happy.

"What happened?' Topher asked.

"Governor Swann left about ten minutes after Liam came back from visiting. He's gone to England. His house is swarming with Naval officers and Company marines."

"I've got an idea!" Heather shouted, bursting into the room, followed by Chelsea, Kristin, Kami, the wonder twins, and Claudia.

Everyone waited while she collected her breath and calmed down. She looked around, noticing that they were waiting for something. She shrugged and smiled. "I was just kidding. I've always wanted to enter a room and say something like that."

"So you don't have a plan," Jack asked to make sure.

"Well, that depends," she said truthfully. "What's the problem?"

…

It was very lucky Jack had so many prostitute friends; otherwise, some of these crazy schemes would never have worked out.

Everyone was dressed in women's clothing. Everyone … with the exception of the kids, who were on _the Pearl _with some of the crew. Even Jack, who was hanging around near the jail ready to enact part two of Heather's plan. And Gibbs as well, who made a very ugly woman, was dressed up in a prune colored gown. Some of them had voluminous wigs on to hide their less than feminine tresses and they had white masks painted like Kabuki dancers' faces. Fans in their hands and pistols in their bodices, the gang was all ready to get the idol.

"This is ridiculous," Topher growled in a violently purple smock. "How on earth is this supposed to work? I could have just gone in and grabbed it. I _am_ a Company mercenary. They would hardly notice me."

"And if they did, you'd be hung faster than you could blink," Gibbs muttered.

"That might be preferable to wearing this eyesore," he grumbled.

"Distraction, my friend," Jack growled from behind his mask and pink gown. Will had gotten a nice blue dress. Why had he been stuck with the pink monstrosity? He headed off toward the jail in his getup, ready to raise hell.

…

One of the marines made a pass around midnight and was very shocked to see a procession of women dancing towards the mansion. He alerted the other guard and they both were glued to the window.

"What the hell is goin' on out there?" the first one asked.

"How should I know?" the second one answered. "Looks like a bunch of women, to me. What's that they're singin'?"

They tried to listen to he words coming from the women but they were still too far away.

"Maybe we should go check it out," one of them said, shrugging.

"Yeah …" the second one agreed, pulling on his rifle. "Let's go see what they want."

As the two officers left, three masked 'women' snuck into the mansion behind them. They strode quickly into the dining area and began looking for the idol.

"I found it," Will said through his mask. He pulled it out of an umbrella can. He noticed that there was also a broken candlestick in the container. Shivering, he picked up the idol and hid it in the dress somewhere.

"Let's go," Gibbs exclaimed, tugging on the red wig he wore. "Quickly, before those two goons come back."

The three of them exited out the same way they'd come in. It might have been smarter to leave out the back door, but they were flustered and didn't expect the navy to shoot at women.

As soon as they hit the steps, hey heard shouting and the marines were running back to the mansion. One of them fired. That was where their mistake sat. The Navy wouldn't shoot at women, but the Company would.

The three took off as another bullet shot through the air. Luckily, they lost the officers by going into the jungle and backtracking to get to the Turner estate. Once inside, the grabbed their clothes and bolted for _the Pearl_.

As everyone jumped on board and stripped off the clothes and masks, Topher shouted.

"That bastard shot me! Can you believe that? Damn," he ripped off the purple dress and opened his shirt to reveal a wound in his shoulder. There was a neat hole but no exit wound. The bullet was still inside. "Ah! I don't know if I'll be able to explain this to my superiors."

"I would worry more about whether or not you're going to survive, rather than what the Company will make of such a wound going unexplained," Will pointed out. "Just tell them an unidentified pirate shot you. They'll eat it right up, and if you can't remember the man's face, then no one will get hurt."

"Stevenson," Gibbs called for the ship's surgeon. "We've got a casualty out here. Bullet wound."

Stevenson took Topher below decks to work on him and everything seemed under way once again. Now all they had to do was wait for Jack to get there.

…

Jack had stolen in to the jail and managed to unlock most of the cells without the prisoners waking. Unfortunately, dogs will bark and with the canine's voice came the sound of a dozen men waking to open doors. Jack froze, the key in his hand still inside the last lock. He turned and addressed the men who were staring at him in his pink dress.

"Good evening, gentlemen. As you can see, I have freed you. I only ask that you distract the navy and Company marines if you are seen. Thank you. Go on! You're free to go!" The men all exchanged glances and laughed, running from the jail with a certain joy reserved for those who have been unexpectedly freed from death.

"Oy! Miss … You're gonna let us out too, right?" a voice to his right asked. Jack looked into the cell he had been about to open. Two dirty men stood in that cell, one short and square, the other tall and thin. It was none other than Pintel and Ragetti. Jack made a face and turned to leave but they gave such a cry that he stopped. Looking back, he took in the most pitiful picture they made. Ragetti had his arms through the bars, reaching sadly for Jack. Pintel had dropped to his knees and looked about to cry.

Jack sighed and moved to unlock the door. Before he opened it, he fixed an eye on them and spoke, not using the high pitched voice he'd used for the others. "Get some weapons from the armory and follow me." He opened the door and took off in the direction of the armory. Ragetti didn't even question it. Pintel made a confused face for a second, shrugged, and followed.

Jack ran through the armory, not touching anything. The two stooges behind him grabbed swords and pistols and soon, they were running towards the jungle.

By now, the officers had been alerted to the strange looking women and the escaped prisoners. The KR were out and about, rounding up the prisoners. Mr. Mercer, the Company mercenary in town was scouring the streets in their black cloaks, weapons out. It was Gillette however that noticed the pink figure running full tilt through town, followed by the two grungy looking men. He gave a shout and the riders took off towards Jack and his escapees.

Halfway to the jungle, Jack turned and shot at the officers riding towards them. He hit one in the shoulder, spinning the man off his horse. The animal continued to run, dragging his rider against the rough cobblestones. Ragetti and Pintel, following Jack's cue, turned and shot as well. Ragetti's missed but Pintel hit the lead horse in the knee. The animal crumpled and fell, tripping three more of the riders. Some of the animals were too skittish to leap their fallen friends but at least two made it over the mess.

"Run!" Jack shouted. The three of them darted into the jungle. Jack ripped the mask and wig off and tore at the bodice of the dress as he was running. He managed to rip it enough to run out of it, leaving him in just the pants and boots he'd worn underneath. Ragetti and Pintel now followed a man that seemed familiar through the jungle but thanks to the darkness, they couldn't pinpoint on his identity.

They broke through the jungle a few moments later, the KR still hot on their tails. Jack shouted to _the Pearl _as they ran down the short dock. "Raise anchor! Go, now!" He heard Gibbs shouting similar orders on deck as he and the two goons behind him raced up the gangplank and onto the deck. Ragetti and Pintel grabbed the gangplank without being asked and hauled it aboard as _the Pearl _pulled away from the dock. The KR jumped from their horses and aimed carefully, shooting at the men on deck. Everyone ducked but the ship was definitely moving now, a wind from the mountain pushing them along at a steady rate.

Jack stood and made faces at the soldiers on land. "Naa! Naa! Bullies, can't even catch a few pirates! Ha!" He turned to see Pintel and Ragetti being held up at the gunwales by Gibbs and Bootstrap. "Oh."

"Cap'n Jack!" Pintel exclaimed. "I t'ought it was you … now … tell 'em ta let us go! We won't hurt nothin' … promise!"

"Yeah!" Ragetti added, clasping his hands together. "We promise! We'll be good!"

Jack gave them a look. "You'll serve in this crew and be loyal to us from here on out?"

"Aye!" They both cried.

"All right then," Jack headed towards the cabin. "You'll sign your articles and get right to business. We've got a treasure to find."

…

Meanwhile, back on the ranch … er … _Necromancer_, Scarlette was pacing. They were back at sea, once again, following _the Pearl_, which seemed to be on its way back to Tortuga. And she was slightly frightened. Her hair was definitely black … and it wasn't changing back. She'd washed it several times … it stayed dark as night's ebony. She couldn't explain it … and no one else seemed to be able to either.

"What the hell are they doing?" Morgan exclaimed. "Do you think he's trying to stall as long as he can, thinking we'll get tired and give up?"

"How should I know?" she growled back at him. "It's not like I talk to him or anything. I mean, he is my husband and ordinarily I'd know everything that was going on, but just now, I'm stuck on this ruddy great ship, (said with much sarcasm) so I have no clue what is happening."

Morgan gave her a dirty look and left the area.

Scarlette, for lack of something better to do, went to take a nap. And she didn't go to some corner of the ship. She mounted the stairs and wrenched open the cabin door.

There was someone with dark hair sitting in a chair facing the wall. Whoever was there was wearing a long golden dress and had dark skin that had a sort of grayish sheen to it. Their hair was medium length, about to mid back, and was styled with some sort of loose curl. There were white flowers in the hair. Scarlette couldn't see the person's face.

"Sorry," Scarlette told whoever it was. "I didn't know someone was in here. I'll just be going now." It wasn't any of the girls she'd seen so either one of the crew members had a strange hobby or it was some girl they'd picked up in town. There was always the possibility of it being one of the harem girls. Scarlette had never been introduced to all of them.

While she was pondering this, the woman turned and Scarlette was immediately confused. "I thought you were on _the Pearl_. How did you get here? And what on earth are you wearing?"

Anamaria smiled but didn't speak. She stood from the chair and the floor length gown, something Anamaria would have never been caught dead in … swirled. She had matching satin gloves running the length of her arm, stopping at the bicep. Someone had done her makeup, deep red for her lips and a golden sheen around her eyes. She looked great.

"Wow," Scarlette nodded. "Nice outfit. Is this a trick?"

Obviously, everyone had neglected to tell the girls on board _The Necromancer _that Anamaria was dead.

When she didn't speak but remained smiling, Scarlette got a tad nervous. "Well, I won't ruin the surprise by letting on that I know you, I guess. Tootles." She exited the room and went to find Robin and the others.

…

"Ow! Bloody hell!" Topher managed to not twist his arm as Stevenson dug the bullet out with a thin knife. The wound was quickly cauterized before Topher could get away and the bullet sat on a white towel, a few drops of blood falling from the metal to stain the fabric.

"Wow," Topher gasped. "Remind me to apologize to Robin."

"Why?" Stevenson asked, cleaning his tools.

"For ever having a child. If this hurt that bad, I can only imagine what she must have gone through."

"You're lucky. It doesn't seem to have done any real damage. It hadn't reached the bone … and you're moving your arm, so I assume you haven't lost the muscle."

Chelsea came running down suddenly. The two men looked at her and she put her hands out in distress. "Don't move!"

They both looked at her and she shrugged.

"I was just sent down here to tell you not to throw that bullet away."

…

Chelsea and Jack had been conferring about the location of the island and Chelsea revealed that Norrington had told her quite a bit. When she got to the part about the warrior's stone, both she and Jack's eyes widened. She ran down to where Topher was being doctored and delivered the message. She came back up to the top deck with a small wad of bloody fabric. She handed it off to Jack and went to wash her hands, or wipe them at least.

When she returned, Jack had the idol sitting on his desk with the mermaid's scale and the bullet. Will was standing nearby, looking nervous. It was the second time pirates needed his blood for something having to do with treasure.

"Well," Jack spoke. "What now?"

Since they were all at a loss as to what they needed to do next, they were glad they were going to Tortuga again.

…

They sent Bootstrap and Will because Jack didn't want to get caught by the whores and Topher was still in pain from his bullet wound. Bootstrap knew how to get there faster, having lived there for a time after he'd been rid of the curse.

The two men led the children through town and to the edge of the darkness. Bootstrap took a step into the dark forest and turned to look back at Will and the kids.

Will shrugged and stepped into the darkness as well.

The six children stared into the pitch-black abyss. Sharon and Liam looked at each other and grinned. They were the first to enter the black jungle. Joaquin and Damian ran quickly after them, not wanting to be outdone by a girl. Keira and Lenore drew closer together.

"Come on, girls," Will urged. "It's all right. You'll be with us."

"Don't be a scaredy cat, Keira," Liam called to his sister. He lifted Sharon's arm. "Look! She did it, and she's a girl. Come on!" Sharon snatched her arm away with a small amount of aggression.

Lenore grabbed Keira's hand and led her to join the others. "Don't worry," she told her. "I'll protect you. Nothing can hurt me." And perhaps what she said was true. No one knew if Lenore had taken after her parents in the way of … species.

And so, linking hands, the two Turner men got all six children through the woods and into the gypsy camp.

The hike to the cave was slightly eventful when Joaquin lost his footing, dragging Damian and Lenore down for a few seconds. Everyone got righted and soon, they were at the mouth of the cave. It was lit brightly and Bootstrap was well noticed, dragging his chain of children.

Unorna smiled as the children lined up. She picked out the Sparrow children easily, and the Turner boy as well. She was introduced to the rest of the children and nodded as they started asking all manner of questions. She rounded on Bootstrap however.

"Thought you'd leave and not visit, eh?"

He shrugged. "It's been busy, what with killer pirates, zombies, naval officers with hippos up their arses. You get the idea."

"Indeed," she raised one eyebrow. "I do. I also understand that you have yet another question concerning the treasure of _Langue de Serpente._ What is it you would like to know?"

"We have the idol and the three … ingredients," he glanced at Will when he said this. Will shivered and looked away stubbornly.

"Ah, yes. You want to know the next step. Well," Unorna put a hand to her temple. "Yes. You must place the scale of a mermaid and the idol in a pot and boil them together for thirteen hours. When this is done, place the idol on a table and administer a drop of pure blood on the head of the idol once every day. The idol will turn in a direction and lead you to the islands. Once in sight of the island chain, place the warrior stone in the mouth of the idol. It will then lead you to the proper island."

"Sounds a bit dodgy," Bootstrap commented. "Are you sure it will work?"

"Are you questioning my wisdom on such matters?"

"Oh … of course not."

"It has worked in the past and will work again. This is how one finds the island. Finding the rest of the pieces, however, proves to be more difficult. These three ingredients will bring you to an island, upon which you will find a cave. I can give you no more information than that." She pressed her lips together and Bootstrap frowned.

"You understand that we can't stay to chat," he spoke. She nodded and gave a dismissing wave. Will and Bootstrap left the caves, making their way back down the hill, through the jungle, and back into town.

"She'll have those kids killing wild pigs before we return," Bootstrap commented as they entered the lit town.

"I just hope Elizabeth doesn't find out about this," Will muttered, walking briskly up the dock.

…

Norrington groaned, back on the sea after only two days. Damn, that Sparrow to hell! He could not let the fiend reach the island. Norrington began sailing in a very erratic pattern, recalling from somewhere deep in his mind a certain pathway needed. He looked in the drawers and chests in his room and finally found what he was looking for.

He returned to the deck and handed a crude, hand drawn map to the man at the helm. "Here. Follow these instructions. This will take us to their location." The fact the Norrington knew where they were headed and he had a _map_ to the location was mighty fishy. Had any of the future kids been aboard, there would have been question after question fired at the commodore. As it was, the men were suspicious of a hand drawn map, but they were not willing to speak up against a man who was more and more prone to fits of tantrum.

Norrington gripped the smooth wood of the railing on the upper deck and clenched his teeth. He was less than a day behind _the Pearl _and he knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up to them.

…

"Hold still," Heather spoke, holding a needle in her right hand. Will was sitting in a chair in Jack's cabin, his left hand outstretched over the table. On the table, sitting in a small wooden basin, was the idol, newly boiled. It had a somewhat lavender sheen over it, looking much like a purple chrome dragon. In the boiling process, this had happened. The scale had dissolved completely.

Heather grasped Will's hand and went to jab the needle into his finger. He moved at the last second and she missed.

"Dammit, will you stop moving?"

"I can't help it," Will answered her in a small voice. "I see you about to stab and my hand moves away. It's almost as if I'm not controlling it."

"Hey, Will," Jack called from a seat on his other side. Will turned to look at the pirate and Jack began to speak. "Whatever happened to that grey hat you used to wear? You know, the one with the huge feather—"

"Ow!" Will exclaimed. Jack smiled and Heather squeezed Will's finger until a plump drop of blood fell and spattered the head of the dragon. The lavender sheen darkened to a deep red and the idol began to move. One of its clawed forelegs stretched out and pointed. Jack took out his compass and turned it a bit, reading the silly thing.

"East," he snapped it shut and stood. "Nice work, girl."

Heather smiled and Will gave Jack a disgusted look as he dipped his finger in alcohol. This caused him to hiss and shake his hand. He sucked on his finger and glared at the captain.

"Is that East by normal standards or East by your weird compass?" Heather asked, sipping one of the bottles on the table.

"Normal. My compass is … special. It doesn't point north, but as long as I know where it's pointing, I can tell where I'm at. I've gotten pretty good at it."

"Where does it point?" Heather asked curiously.

Will frowned. "I thought it pointed to Isla de Muerta … but there was a man in Norrington's office that seemed to think we could use it to find the islands of this snake tongue treasure." Will looked at Jack then with a serious expression. "_Where_ does it point, Jack?"

Jack smiled. "Now that, my friend, would be telling."

…

Every time Will had to donate blood, the dragon would return to its previous lavender color. Once it received the blood, it would glow hot red and point. They went East for three days until it turned and pointed SE. Another two days brought them into dangerous waters.

"We're crossing into European/African trade waters," Jack announced on the fifth morning. "Keep your eyes peeled for ships. Don't fly any flags that'll get us shot."

"Which flags will get us shot?" Kami asked. Jack looked at her and smirked.

"Most flags are hated by someone or other. If we fly a merchant flag but no nation, we're open to closer scrutiny. That's really the safest bet. Once we get a look at the ship coming for us, we'll raise the appropriate colors, nationwise."

"And if they are pirates?"

Jack grinned. "Then we strike the merchant and raise the roger."

On the sixth morning, Will complained. He was out of fingers on his left hand, not wanting to prick the tender healing spots. He didn't want to injure his right hand either so he proposed a compromise.

"We don't know how much longer this voyage will be," he brought up. "So I am going to cut a little deeper and fill a container, like we did with Barbossa. Do you still have that container?"

"Yeah, but it's full," Jack answered. "Apparently vampire blood doesn't congeal. I've got a little box you can use, though." Will held his breath and cut a line across his left palm. He let the drops fall into an ivory box. Jack added a little seawater to make sure it wouldn't clot, capped it, and set it on the table.

Two days later, the dragon was pointing south and _the Pearl _had sailed by many a ship.

"Awfully populated waters for an island no one's supposed to have found," Bootstrap remarked.

"Maybe it's like the other one," Kristin added. "No one can find Isla de Muerta either."

On day 10, Jack noticed the ships beginning to dwindle and the temperature beginning to climb. Soon, there were no more visitors and the heat out on the deck was stifling. Their first clue that they were getting close was _The Necromancer_. The ship burst into view and stayed there. After a day of visible travel, the crew of _the Pearl _started to marvel.

"Just how magical is this island?" Gibbs asked in wonder. "To affect that other ship when we can't even see it! It must have colossal range!"

"Maybe the island, if that is what it is, isn't the only magical thing in the area," Bootstrap muttered, his eyes scanning the water.

And finally, on day 16 of their journey, they came upon the island chain. The crew cheered as dark masses came into view. There were five in all, most of them craggy peaks, no doubt once having been volcanic.

Jack and the others hurried to the cabin. Topher placed his bullet in the mouth of the dragon. There was a flash and the dragon glowed white and stood on its back legs, flapping its wings. It cried and froze in a sort of attack posture, its wings splayed and its claws brandished.

Everyone looked at it in a sort of confused way when a strident crash echoed from outside. Everyone ran outside and watched in wonder as fire shot in a pillar from one of the islands. The fire died and an incredible screeching sound carried across the water.

"That'll be our island," Gibbs reckoned. "Is that the volcano?"

"I doubt it," Topher sighed. "There must be some reason why the idol is a dragon."

"Dragons don't exist," Claudia said with conviction.

"Than what do you think that is?" Will asked, pointing as the flame shot up again.

She shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that dragons are myth, a fantasy creation. They aren't real."

A shrill sound rode the air, a screeching that sounded as if it had come from a very large animal.

"We don't know that for sure," Kami added from near the back of the congregation on the deck. "How is it possible that in multiple continents around the world thousands of years ago, before international transportation, thought up the idea of dragons? All at once? They weren't talking to each other and I find it hard to believe a psychic connection told them all to make up huge flying creatures that spit fire. Who knows. There were some dinosaurs that spit poison. Maybe dragons were just a type of dinosaur."

"What's a dinosaur?" Gibbs asked. The future gang looked at him.

"I guess they haven't found any fossils yet," Kristin shrugged.

"The first fossils found were thought to be nothing more than large birds anyway," Heather put forth.

"Yeah, well, I still say dragons don't exist," Claudia commented.

…

"There they are," Norrington snapped his scope closed. He had come up on the islands not two hours after _the Pearl _and _Necromancer _began to navigate the waterways between the landmasses. He knew that the area, meaning the waterways and the islands, were arranged in such a way that from the air, one could see a serpent's head and its forked tongue. How he knew this, for there were no planes back then, would be revealed to the others once they found the cave.

"All the gunners to the port side. Now. Ready the portside braces. Fire upon my command." _The Dauntless _began its way into the treacherous passes, Norrington waiting to turn the ship to give the port gunners a target. Before he could maneuver into the right area, however, _the Pearl _had gone into the cove of the island. _The Necromancer _followed and Norrington knew better to attack that ship. He didn't want the figurehead coming after him.

He decided he would have to take them down by force. "Land in the cove but wait until Sparrow and the others have vacated. At least for the most part. Getting the idol back is useless now."

They slid into the cove silently. The sky above was grey with large, fluffy clouds but there seemed to be sparse sunlight illuminating the island. The water looked slate grey and Norrington was glad to see that there were no sharks. It was strange weather for the area but before long, it began to rain heavily, a lukewarm rain that fell in heavy splatters of liquid.

…

Jack, Will, Topher, and a handful of others, took the rowboat and paddled to shore. They all had their pistols loaded and sabers at the ready.

Jack was the first to set foot on the black sand of the beach. Will looked in wonder at the black sand but Jack had seen it before. Volcanic islands were fun … especially when you were running for your life from things that would eat you.

They crossed the beach, looking around carefully. They didn't have long to be rewarded with earsplitting shrieks issuing from the ocean. Everyone looked to the right at the water.

There were three … people in the water. Their hair was dark and their skin a golden color, for the most part. They held spears with coral tips and had wicked looking fangs in their mouths.

"Lyandize," David shouted. He ran a small distance towards the water and shrieked at the creatures, adding his own voice to their cries. They seemed to be communicating.

"What's going on, David?" Jack called.

"They don't want us here," he answered. "They say we have safe passage now, but if they see us again, they will try to kill us."

"Well, can't you explain to them?"

"I tried, but we are of different clans," David explained. "The Tyrnise and the Lyandize are not on good terms right now. We're better off just trying to avoid them. They don't like to come onto land but they will if they think we pose a threat."

"Great," Jack groaned. "What next? Cannibal witch doctors?"

The entered the jungle, moving towards the cliff face. High above their heads, they could see the mouth of a cave, and that was their destination.

It was not long before they stumbled upon the village. There were bamboo huts with thatched roofs. There were blackened piles of stones where fires had burned. All this was very interesting, but nothing had everyone's attention like the spears protruding from the roof of the center building. _There were human heads decaying on those spears_.

A small man exited from the hut. He had on a wooden mask that covered him from sternum to past his head. Straw and feathers cascaded along his tanned back. He dragged a smaller person with him. Two more people joined him and together, they tied the ankles of the person to a strange whip like contraption. Before anyone could guess at what was going to happen, they took a large knife and sliced open the abdomen of the person. Then, they released a rope on the whip machine and it yanked into motion, pulling the disemboweled person into the air and suspending them, their head five feet above the ground. Blood and viscera fell to the ground as the person continued to scream.

There was a dull thud and Jack's eyes widened as they beheaded the screamer. There wasn't much sound after that, except for Lizzy puking in the grass.

"Jack," Will spoke carefully, his voice almost trembling. "I am sure you were merely joking when you mentioned cannibal witch doctors … but just in case there is more power to your words than we understand … please, be careful what you say. I really don't want to know what will happen next."

"Yeah," Gibbs growled. "For all we know, the next thing to come out of your mouth might be another undead Barbossa, and lord knows we've had enough of him."

"Let's get to the cave," Jack answered softly. "I'd rather those folks didn't see us." They were pulling the corpse down now that it had bled out and putting it into a large pot. Will looked back quickly and shivered as they tossed the kidneys back into the stew.

…

They reached the cave without further mishap except for the long climb up to the mouth. It was getting late and Jack told them he wanted to be on the ship before dark.

The cave was not very deep, but it had curves. The light did not penetrate to the back of the cave. They managed to light a makeshift torch and continue into the hole in the mountain.

They didn't see mounds of treasure or anything of that ilk but at the very back of the cave, a huge skeleton was chained to the wall. Above it, there was a map painted into the wall. It showed the surrounding islands and waterway and Jack could make out the shape of the serpent's head.

Above the skeleton, which was definitely not the normal size for one, there was writing in a silvery ribbon like hand. It wasn't in English, but a choppy language. No one spoke it but as Jack leaned close to the wall, he could make out some small writing below it, done in a different hand, probably by someone who'd been there previously.

_Donnez le moi votre sang …_ It had an arrow pointing at the skeleton. Jack couldn't read it but he suspected it was French.

"Damn," he whispered. "Anyone here speak French?" Will knew a little bit and so did Claudia. Will could understand most of it.

"It wants us to give it something but I don't understand this last word."

Claudia stepped up to the plate and read the writing. "Blood," she spoke quietly. "It wants blood. Give me your blood."

Will shrunk back. "I've donated enough in the last few weeks. It's someone else's turn."

"I'm betting it has to be more specific than just anyone," Jack looked at his hands. "Will's been giving blood for days, Topher was shot … I'd say it's my turn." He pulled his cutlass out a few inches and ran his thumb along the edge.

Blood welled out and he slammed the sword back into the sheath. He moved towards the skeleton and rubbed his thumb across the teeth, noticing it had fangs, like a vampire.

Not long after Jack's blood began to drip down the teeth, the eyes of the skeleton glowed white. Smoke rose from its nostrils and everyone stepped back in alarm as it began to move. The air seemed to darken noticeably and the group drew closer together.

"It's like the figurehead," Gibbs whispered, quivering with adrenaline, ready.

The large skeleton shook itself and growled. Words issued from its mouth.

"_Who has awoken me, and why_?" Its voice was deep but grainy and it echoed around the cave like no other sound had before. A few of the party swallowed and Jack stepped forward.

"We seek the _Langue de Serpente_. Some of our friends have been kidnapped and the ones who took them want the treasure. They've ransomed us to find it."

"Ah, well, that's a _much _better request than the last time," the skeleton grinned at them. It seemed to have a sense of humor. How strange. "The last time someone woke me up, they wanted the treasure and its properties to rid the Caribbean of pirates. They failed, however, in making an adequate charm. Very well, I shall issue the terms. You have one week, that is seven days. Your time starts now and you have until midnight a week from now to collect the ingredients and make a suitable _gris-gris_ for me. The ingredients are as follows;

_One spill of gold, a flattened scale _

_One drop of blood, a ruby eye,_

_One sprig of green, an emerald tail,_

_One dreg of black, an onyx lie_

_And at last, the violet thread,_

_Amethyst twines the lines of the dead_."

The group frowned as a whole. "Please, sir," Chelsea spoke. "We have heard this riddle before. We haven't any clues to what these ingredients are."

"That's because you have never been to this island," the creature answered her. "You will need to enter the village at the base of the cliff. This is dangerous. Send no men, they will not harm young women; bring the idol used to find me. They will help you. Beware of the Lyandize. They will try their best to stop you." The demon coughed and shook again. "You will construct the charm and bring it to me within the time limit or your bones will litter this cave. Beware, leaving this cave, however. Your first ordeal begins now." It coughed again, letting forth a great wash of smoke. Its eyes flashed and went dark and the body relaxed, hanging once more in the chains.

As the air returned to normal, they noticed that the floor was indeed lousy with bones. Why hadn't they seen these before?

"Everyone back to the ship," Jack ordered, his eyes glued to the dead body on the wall. There was a clanking noise as something in the walls moved. The entrance was closed off.

Those closest to it rushed but nothing could stop the mechanism. Their path was blocked by a portcullis made of thick bamboo.

"What is this?" Will shouted at the thing on the wall. "You give us a time limit and now we're trapped?"

"Look!" Claudia pointed. Another doorway had opened up to the left of the giant skeleton and it was well lit compared to the room they were in currently. Gibbs and Topher strode forward and looked out cautiously.

"Oh, this is going to be interesting," Gibbs muttered. They all filed out onto the platform and looked out. They were hundreds of feet above the pulsing hot glow of lava. They were _inside_ the volcano. A screech rang out from above them and all eyes went upwards. Another set of however many hundreds of feet above them, glided winged forms, silhouetted against the sky.

"Please tell me those are birds," Jack groaned.

"Well," Chelsea swallowed. "I think our best bet is to get moving. It _will_ be dark soon … and the thing did say beware getting out of the cave."

They did continue. They were following a narrow stone path carved into the side of the rock. There were small bamboo posts with a rope railing to at least give the illusion of safety railing but one misstep and charbroiled was a word one might be using to describe themselves.

They walked in single file, Jack leading the way with Will following. Claudia insisted on following Will and Gibbs tailed her closely, several times catching her when she slipped. Behind him was Chelsea and Topher and bringing up the rear were the Perkins'. Eventually, they reached another hole in the volcano's side. It was another room, but none they had ever seen before.

The floor was evenly cut into square tiles that were about four feet square. Spacing these, however was something not normally seen in a tiled floor. The spaces were dark and deep, as if the floor was actually a few feet below where the tiles sat. Some of the tiles were … suspiciously colored as well. Most of the time, the floor one is walking on does not have irregular red splashes, as if an uncertain quantity of red liquid had been spilt. More distressing … an _uncertain_ red liquid had been spilled.

"That's interesting," Jack commented, standing firmly on one of the tiles and surveying the room. The others were on tiles as well, all but Gibbs, who was still in the doorway. There only seemed to be one door.

"What do we do now?" Claudia asked, one tile away from Jack. Gibbs looked around and spotted a lever inside the doorway. He pulled it and the room filled with a horrible clanking sound. Everyone exchanged glances and Will, looking around wildly.

"Don't step on the cracks!" he shouted, looking about. Gibbs knitted his brow and was about to step onto the first tile when a large saw about four feet high from the floor shot up and began zipping about. The others were experiencing similar difficulties. The floor was set in a gridlock pattern and there were ten saws, one for each row and column, slicing in a timed grid. Gibbs watched the saw go past several times but stayed where he was.

Jack was watching the saws as well and shouted above the din. "Is everyone in one piece?" The chorused together that they were all okay and he looked around. A door on the far side of the room had opened, probably when Gibbs had pulled the lever.

"The saws are timed!" Jack shouted. "We can make it to the door. Jump to the next tile after you've caught the rhythm." He did so, jumping between the saws slicing across the room. He eventually made it to the other door, which stood open.

The others eventually made it across as well. Only Gibbs seemed to be having problems. He had always had a problem with timing in general. The others finally had to tell him when to jump to the next tile. Gibbs arrived sweaty and flustered and not at all happy. He started raving.

"Bloody mountain has booby traps! And giant flying things! And talking skeletons! What the blazes were we thinking, coming here! And we're not the first! See that blood? People have been here before us! Holy Styrofoam!"

Jack just smiled. "That's probably not the last of them. Chin up, everyone. We may not make it back before dark at this rate."

…

The sun was just setting as the eight tired explorers left the last of the volcanic mountain's traps. They had steadily worked their way through room after room of traps and such, getting lower and lower in the mountain until they spilled out of a lower cave mouth and into freezing cold water. David and Lizzy immediately transformed. Topher floundered and began to sink and the two merfolk helped him back to the surface. He was the only one who couldn't swim.

They crawled up on a rocky shelf and from there hiked out to the main passage of the cave. Some how, they had all missed the bamboo ladder leading down to the rock shelf from the cave above and had fallen straight into the water.

"Why do I have the sneaking suspicion that we'll have to go back through all that once we have this charm of his?" Gibbs asked, tripping in the sand.

No one answered him as Topher and Jack rowed back out to _the Pearl_. They had all survived the traps, but everyone was tired and a few were injured. Nothing too serious, but if they had to go back through all those traps, it was going to be difficult.

…

Hey there, kiddies. You'll probably get the rest of the traps later on, don't worry. But now it's time for a page count! We're at 227. Last fiction's chapter 8 after revision clocks in at 214 … so … over 10 pages worth. Wacko cheese biscuits. 2-4-07


	10. Chapter IX: Recipe and Enlightenment

Well, that last chapter was fun. For those who are interested, Ranma ½ is a very good manga/anime. The main character suffers from hydrobisexuality. When splashed with cold water, Ranma is female. When splashed with warm water, he is male. There are a number of other hydro-challenged in the series … and it gets real confusing when the word fiancée is mentioned. … Don't take my word for it. Check it out yourself! Most libraries will have at least the first volume. I know. I just checked it out of the library in Cave Junction. CJ has the population of spit.

**Chapter IX –Recipe for Disaster and Ghostly Enlightenment**

"Well, we're here," Morgan smiled, cracking his knuckles against the wall. Scarlette scowled at him. He shrugged and entered his cabin.

"What was that ghastly noise earlier," Elizabeth asked, leaning over the railing and looking into the water where indiscernible shapes glided beneath the sunset.

"Do you mean the explosion or the screeching?" Robin asked. They seem to be on okay terms now, the arguments forgotten when Scarlette went in to the sea.

"Both. Either."

"Well," Scarlette began. "The screeching came from the water. To get here, Jack had to have found a mermaid's scale, so I guess they exist." It was amazing how much the three of them had missed. They didn't know what Lizzy and David were, or where their children were, or that Topher had been shot, or even that Anamaria, who was walking around silently in her golden finery was dead. "As for the explosion, the sand is black, which means this is a volcanic island. Maybe the volcano was letting off some pressure."

"It sounded more like a dragon to me," Bert mentioned, coming up behind them.

"Dragons don't exist," Scarlette told him.

"Aye, they do," Jericho countered. "And they can fly and breathe fire. Didn't you see the pillar after that roar?"

"It was the volcano, and they make odd noises when they erupt," Scarlette was frowning.

"Yeah," Robin was agreeing. "We would have found remnants of these creatures in the future if they had existed, especially because if they exist now, their bones would be fresher than the dinosaurs and in better condition."

"Dinosaurs?" Morgan raised an eyebrow.

"Prehistoric … animals," Scarlette answered. "Some were quite large. Most were only about the size of a horse. They populated the earth for a few million years, starting in the Triassic period. Through the Jurassic and then through the Cretaceous, some died out, but for some reason, about 65 million years ago … from our time, of course, all of them died out nearly simultaneously. I think it was a meteor … some experts think it may have been behavioral change … disease, some make note of climate changes. No one really knows. Extinction is not something anyone can really study."

"They were huge lizards," Robin added. "They had ones that could swallow a human in one bite, like the T-Rex."

"There is some debate about them being lizards," Scarlette thought. "It makes sense that they would be warm blooded, what with the upright posture on the carnivores … and some of them had necks up to 20 or 30 feet long, which suggests a large, four chambered heart to pump blood … Lizards are cold blooded. Probably dinosaurs were ancestors of birds, rather than lizards. Or maybe they're their own class altogether."

"Anyways," Robin shook her head at Scarlette. "Dragons can't exist. Have you ever seen one?"

Jericho opened his mouth to answer, paused, and finally shook his head. "No, I guess I haven't." Just then, Anamaria wandered by, touching the railing with an odd interest. She bent to get a closer look and Elizabeth stared.

"What do you think is wrong with her?" she whispered back to Robin and Scarlette. They shrugged and watched as Anamaria stood upright again. She turned to face them. Jericho and Bert shuddered and left in a hurry. Anamaria smiled at the girls and left as well. She climbed the stairs slowly and entered the Captain's cabin. A few minutes later, Morgan appeared again and began giving instructions to Cob. The Rastapirate nodded. The sun was going down quickly and night would soon be fully upon them.

…

Night fell like a large metal door shutting. Jack could almost feel the sun go down. He turned to the women in the group.

"I hope you understand why we must do this tonight," he told them. "Going out into the darkness doesn't appeal to me, but I would do it in this case. Since I cannot accompany you, I wish you the best of luck." Chelsea held the idol against her chest and looked rather determined.

The people going into the jungle consisted of Lizzy, Claudia, Heather, Kristin, Chelsea, and Kami. Kami was not sure why she was included in this particular endeavor. Up to this point, other than being selected to go on the voyage, she hadn't been involved in much. Just learning everyone's names, she still had to acquaint herself with them. This trip seemed like a good time to do that, at least to some extent.

They were taken ashore by Armstrong and Topher, who were giving instructions to bring the boat onto shore and wait for their return. They were to shoot any mermaids coming from the water and if any cannibals were to come from the forest, they were to leave and wait offshore until they left.

This seemed like an easy enough plan. They rowed out to the shore, beached the boat, and everyone climbed out, the girls helping to drag the boat the rest of the way up. Once they had, the six who were set to go into the jungle gave one last look to the ships in the cove, their lights reflecting on the water, mist already clouding the surroundings.

Heather and Claudia led the way, Chelsea following closely with the idol. Kami, Kristin, and Lizzy came up behind, Lizzy trying not to get lost, and Kami looked around in the dark. Lizzy had a sense of direction slightly better than Ryoga Hibiki, that is to say, not a very good one. She knew where the village was, but there was a reason she wasn't heading the expedition into the jungle.

It took about twenty minutes of walking to get to the village, but ten minutes into it, the cannibals knew they were coming. When the six girls stumbled into the clearing, they found themselves surrounded.

Frozen with apprehension, Kami opened the corner of her mouth, "I thought they didn't hurt women."

"Who knows," Claudia answered, her hands raised in the air to show she was unarmed. Chelsea stepped forward and held the idol high above her head. The natives pointed emphatically to it and some rattled off in their tongue.

One stepped forward, a length of bone forced through his septum. "_Mirkwaj dum'aht._" He spoke broken English, a sort of pigeon at the girls and bade them to follow. They entered a hut near the center of the village and waited for someone to come to them.

…

Armstrong and Topher sat on the black sand, one facing the water, the other at his back, facing the jungle. They began to talk.

"You think we're going to get out of here alive," Armstrong asked shakily.

"I don't care, as long as Robin's all right. I would like it however," he answered. "If we survived also."

"You mean you think there's a chance?" Armstrong turned, looking at him. They heard a splash and Armstrong immediately turned again, scanning the water. "What was that? You think it was one of them fish people?"

"Who knows," Topher answered. "Here's a question; would you rather be eaten by cannibals, or torn to shreds by mermaids?"

"Personally, after what you guys told us you saw today in that village," Armstrong began, shivering. "Bring on the fish. Maybe I'll drown before they begin to eat me."

The men shivered in the moonlight and gripped their pistols tightly.

…

Cob wiped sweat off his brow. He had let the oars splash, not a good thing. But no one had seemed to notice and now he was below decks on _the Pearl_. He had two things to acquire and he was slightly anxious about finding the things. The first one was slightly easier than the second would be. He waited to hear the telltale signs of distraction before heading atop.

Shouts issued from the crew and Cob opened up the hatch. The entire crew's attention was focused on the thing in the water. The figurehead was swimming and doing back flips in the water. Cob hurried and ran up to the cabin door. He pulled on it and pushed but nothing happened. The door was closed. It suddenly opened from the inside and Jack looked out at him, quite shocked.

Cob froze in surprise but wasted no time in tossing a handful of purple powder in Jack's eyes. Jack collapsed to the ground in a cloud of sparkling dust and Cob hurried inside, lighting a candle and searching the cabin. He picked up the box used to hold Will's blood and opened it. Seeing the contents, he snapped the box closed and broke for the door, still holding the box. The figurehead was still doing acrobatics in the water and Cob could hear Scarlette shouting at Morgan to stop playing with it. Cob tore to the below decks, looked around for a second, and then sliding out again He landed in his boat and quickly rowed back to _The Necromancer_.

He rushed to the top deck and handed the box to Morgan. Morgan smiled and took the box, and Cob, back to the cabin.

"Here's the blood," Morgan nodded. "Where are the ashes?"

"Ashes?" Cob swallowed. "Shit, mon. I done forgot 'bout dose."

"Damn!" Morgan exclaimed emphatically. "The spell might still work. Let's try it out." He opened the box over a golden goblet, ornately carved and encrusted with jewels, and held his breath. Quickly reciting a string of words in an ancient language, Morgan gripped the wood of the table. Cob assumed the tightness in the air around them was due to the spell.

"Damn," Morgan exclaimed. Suddenly, the goblet burned red. It spat something out, which landed on the table with a sizzle, burning a hole through the wood. Morgan looked at the hole and realized it had ejected the blood.

"This is not the blood we need," Morgan pointed. "You grabbed the wrong thing."

"An' jus' how much blood are dey supposed to have onboard?" Cob had his hands on his hips. "Honest mistake."

"Hmm," Morgan shook his head. And then, a grand idea popped in. "I know! We'll send her." He turned and pointed at the silent Anamaria who was still standing obediently in the corner. "She knows what they both look like, and no one's going to shoot her … probably. And even if they do, it won't do any harm. Anamaria … go and retrieve the things I told you about. Try not to be seen."

Cob began laughing. Morgan gave him an incredulous look. How dare he laugh before the evil genius.

"What's so funny?"

"I wish I could have stayed to watch, mon."

"Watch what?"

"I threw the purple stuff on Sparrow."

Morgan's eyes bulged and he grinned. "Really? Too bad we can't see him. Where was he?"

"In dat cabin. Maybe dey won' see him."

"I hope they do. I really hope they do."

…

The six girls hadn't long to wait. The cannibal who had led them to the hut entered and behind him came the cannibal women with steaming bowls of … well, it sure wasn't bouillabaisse.

"This is one of those places where you might not want to eat the native specialties," Claudia spoke a little sarcastically.

"Why?" Lizzy asked, smelling her bowl. "Smells good … doesn't look too bad."

"Liz," Claudia shook her head. "Cannibals! Did you forget that part?"

Lizzy just laughed. "No. I eat people too."

The other four girls just stared for a second as Lizzy brought up a spoonful. Before putting it in her mouth, she giggled … and then burst into very loud and hysterical laughter.

"I can't believe you fell for that!"

Everyone relaxed. For a minute there … one thing was for sure … Lizzy had gotten better at keeping a straight face through tough moments … assuming 'tough' moments included times when she was trying to tell a joke.

"I'm a vegetarian," Chelsea mentioned to the cannibal that was handing her food. "Vegetarian. No meat."

Heather just made sign language. She rubbed her belly, pointed at herself, and shook her head. They seemed to understand. Reluctantly, the women took the food away and the septum bone piercing guy sat in front of them, smiling. His teeth were slightly pointed, better for tearing into meat, I suppose. And they were not a very pleasant color. Barbossa would have been proud.

He took the idol and placed it on the floor in front of him. He picked up a stick and drew in the sand on the floor. Everyone leaned in closely to get a glimpse of his … communication methods.

He pointed with the stick to the golden body of the dragon and drew in the sand what looked a lot like a dragon. He pointed to the eyes and drew what looked like a spear and a skull … at this point, Chelsea held out a hand for him to wait. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pen and paper. When the other girls looked at her, she shrugged.

"Hey … it's useful, isn't it?" She copied the drawings and wrote "gold" and "blood-ruby" the corresponding pictures.

The bone guy pointed to the tail and drew a mermaid holding a stick.

In pointing to the wings, he sat and thought for a second, and then drew a skull between two round things. When Chelsea motioned at the circles, he picked up two rocks and placed them on top of the drawn circles. It seemed to mean something to her and she wrote it down as well.

The amethyst was another mermaid drawing; only this one had both hands in her long hair.

Chelsea folded the paper and put it back in her purse, smiling at the friendly cannibal. She stood and bowed a little to thank him and the other girls followed suit. They left the hut and the cannibals waved as the girls went into the dark jungle. Claudia immediately came out and pointed at a torch and then at herself. One of the nice cannibals gave her a torch and she waved, leaving the clearing and catching up with the others.

They came onto the beach and startled the two lookouts. Both of them were staring at the ships off shore. The girls looked to see what at they were gawking.

"That's … a girl in a rowboat," Kami pointed out.

"A dark girl in a rowboat," Claudia added.

"Scarlette?" Kami asked

"She's not that dark … could it be a trick?" Heather wondered.

"Maybe," Lizzy answered. "These are the bad guys we're talking about."

"Let's go find out."

…

Anamaria had no trouble getting into the ship or even up to the cabin. In fact, Jack was still out cold, his face half covered by his hair. She went inside and took the appropriate object, and then went searching for Gibbs. The monster was once again flipping in the water, keeping everyone under wraps.

Gibbs had gone to lie down for a while, complaining of a sore stomach. He swung in a hammock, half asleep, just off the Galley. Anamaria silently strode up to his hammock and bent over him, her hip brushing the side of the hammock.

Gibbs gave a snort and blinked his eyes just enough to see someone standing there. "Leave me alone, will ye." She reached down and grabbed the little bag around his neck, yanking it off in one motion.

Gibbs opened his eyes angrily and sat up but whatever words he'd had died instantly in his throat. She smiled silently and sadly at him.

"But … you …." and he passed out. Anamaria lifted his legs back onto the hammock and left him there, going out through one of the gun holes.

Meanwhile ….

Up on deck, Jack had woken up, feeling quite strange. He pushed himself up off the floor and everything felt … wrong. As he stood, he found himself almost slipping because his boots were too big. He looked down and almost shouted in alarm. Jumping into his cabin and shutting the door, he quickly grabbed a lantern. When it flared to life, he began examining himself thoroughly.

He had shrunk about six inches, his beard and moustache were gone, and all his clothes hung on him because he had shrunk … well, in most places. He … was not exactly a _he _anymore. Whatever powder Cob had thrown on him … had turned him into a female. He quickly ran to the wall to find the mirror Scarlette had insisted upon and looked fearfully into the glass.

To his, albeit shock, but also amusement, he looked remarkably like Scarlette … only, there were some obvious differences. His eyes, dark, were larger and more round. His, or rather, _her_, nose was pointed a bit more, a tad straighter. The jaw, a bit more square. They could have been sisters, or at least cousins.

Jack was taking it rather well. Perhaps he thought he was dreaming. The things that most disturbed him were luckily not in sight. Although, looking down and not being able to see his feet did bother him, quite a bit.

He, _she _… sat on the bed and just stared for a moment. "This had better be temporary," growled a foreign voice. Wow! He sounded a lot like Scarlette. Creepy … although not as creepy as when she sounded like him.

He stayed there, almost wanting to go to sleep and wake up to find himself … normal again. But no, he had to try to change back. He figured by concentrating hard enough, he'd be back to normal in no time.

No time ….

(Hee, hee, hee)

…

The six girls and two lookouts clambered aboard, shouting about some girl on the ship. The ship was searched, and no girl was found. Gibbs was found unconscious in his hammock … but other than that, nothing strange had been seen. It was not until Chelsea, wanting to review their findings to Jack, that anyone even became frightened. Jack was terrified when he heard the knock. He immediately blew out the lantern's candle.

"Who's there," he grumbled, lowering his … her voice as much as possible. He was glad to find that his female body had a voice like Scarlette's, in the fact that it went pretty low for a girl.

They paused outside. "The girls." Oh.

"Uh … you're back, eh?"

"Uh, yeah! Let us in!"

"Um … maybe later."

"Hey … that sounded like Ryoko!"

Shit.

"Maybe we should go … you know …."

"Hmm …"

"Maybe that _was_ Scarlette we saw entering the gun deck."

"What?" Jack exclaimed. He leaned against the door and spoke through it. "I'll let you in on … two conditions. You can't laugh … and you can't tell anyone."

"Okay …."

"Promise!"

"Yeah, yeah, we promise."

Jack opened the door and four out of the six girls entered. Kami and Kristin were not present.

One brushed him on the way in, and then it was all over.

"Ryo?"

Shit.

Claudia jumped on him and he tried to fight her off. Once again glad to have superior female strength, 'he' pushed her off easily.

"Where's Jack?"

"Uh … he's around," he spoke, his face erupting in a furious blush. Lucky it was dark.

"That's not Ryoko," Lizzy spoke carefully. She managed to light the lantern. They all looked at Jack and he wanted to hide.

"Wha …"

Lizzy immediately started giggling. Remembering her promise, she jammed her sleeve in her mouth, nearly suffocating herself. Heather was grinning as well and Claudia didn't seem too far off. The only one who really seemed concerned was Chelsea.

"Jack?"

He nodded grimly.

"How did this happen to you?"

"Jack-chan!" Lizzy exclaimed, clamping her hands over her mouth again to stifle her laughter.

"One of their men came aboard and threw some weird … powder stuff at me. I woke up like this."

"Are you aware you look and sound remarkably like your wife?" Claudia asked innocently. The RyokoJack just glared at her.

"Well … is it permanent?" Heather asked, smiling. He shrugged.

"No way of knowing … unless it wears off."

"Look on the bright side," Heather was still grinning. "You can come with us to see the cannibals if you stay like this."

He glared again.

Lizzy finally lost it. She pointed with one hand and clutched her stomach at the same time. "Hahahahahaha!"

"We should dress her up!" Claudia was rubbing her hands together deviously and looking at Jack like he … _she_ … was lunch.

"No!"

…

Morgan smiled as Anamaria mounted the stairs. He ushered her in and called for Scarlette to come see something. She growled but strode to the cabin. Before she got to the door, however, Morgan stuck his head out, grabbed her left arm and cut a quick slash across it. Before she could react, he swiped the blood with a handkerchief and shut the door. She punched the door hard enough to cut her hand.

"Dammit! I'm going to get you for that, jackass!"

Inside, however, Morgan was adding things to the goblet. He poured some of the contents of another goblet into his jeweled one, the thick red goo dropping into the cup and hissing. He opened the little bag and shook some of those contents … ashy crumbs from the looks of it. Before he could put the wad of handkerchief into the cup, someone knocked on the door.

It was Mullins. "What?"

"Sir, we think Scarlette's on the other ship."

"What? How!"

…

"How pretty!"

"It fits so well!"

"Belle! Magnifique!"

"It's pink," Jack pointed out flatly.

"But it's so gorgeous on you!" Lizzy told him.

"Lets make her up!"

"No!"

…

(Muahahahaha!)

…

Morgan stared in dumb disbelief at the sight across the way. Scarlette was indeed on the deck of _the Pearl_, and fighting her friends off it looked like. They were trying in vain to put lipstick on her, it seemed.

"Get these bloody women off me! Gibbs! Armstrong! Help!"

"Scarlette?"

"Get them away from me!"

Will stepped into the fray and Scarlette hid behind him, pointing at the girls.

"What's going on?" Will asked. "How did you get on this ship?" He turned to face Scarlette. She gave a crooked smile and made a very un-Scarlette gesture. Will frowned.

"You're not Scarlette," he was squinting. "Scarlette doesn't have any gold teeth. And there's … something else … who are you? Scarlette does _not _have hair like this. And this _color_. Scarlette would never wear anything this pale, especially not _this_ color." Will grabbed Jack-chan's right arm and pulled, just as Norrington had done in the first film. The sleeve came back, revealing the tattoo and the scar. Will's eyes widened and he looked up. "Jack?"

"Uh …"

"What the," a voice behind Morgan exclaimed. He turned around but the only thing he saw was a fist. He immediately collapsed but Scarlette, unfazed, stepped over his body and moved to the railing. She'd been below, getting her arm bandaged. "Who is _that_?"

The entire crew of _The Necromancer _looked from Scarlette to 'Ryoko' and back several times … as did the crew from _the Pearl_, excluding the girls.

"What the hell is going on?" Scarlette exclaimed. "Who is that girl?"

Cob, for lack of better explanation, tossed a handful of purple dust onto the real Scarlette.

There was a lot of bright purple sparkly stuff, and then, when the dust cleared, there was a very cute man gripping the railing. For some reason, he looked remarkably like Jack … minus the facial hair and dreadlocks. And he was wearing tight leather pants.

"What the hell is going on!" Raged the new man as everyone … well, no. To say everyone figured it out would be horribly wrong. Now everyone was more confused.

"Hey!" the girl on _the Pearl _shouted. "She didn't pass out!"

"She didn't inhale it like you did, mon." Cob shouted back. He stopped shouting when a very male Scarlette gripped the front of his shirt and brought him real close to her … _his_ … face. She was actually an inch taller than he was now.

"Tell me how to fix this or I will make sure the next body getting sliced open is yours."

Cob shook and stammered out "Warm water!"

Scarlette gasped. "This isn't permanent, is it? I'm not going to change back to a guy when I hit cold water, am I?"

"No," Cob shook again. "Where would you get an idea like that?"

"It's one of those future things," she … _he _growled. She turned back and shouted over in a very Jack-like voice. "Think of Ranma ½! Hot water will change us back. Luckily it's only one sided. Cold water has no effect." And with that, she grinned. "Nice dress. Muahahaha!" Turning to Cob, she yanked him around again. "Go heat up some water, or else."

Morgan woke up at that instant, getting a look at the guy in the leather pants walking away. "What the?"

Scarlette-kun turned back and growled and Morgan went into temporary shock, thinking it was Jack. But rather than attacking the man on the deck, the Jack person just walked away.

Morgan got up and looked puzzled. Everyone else seemed to be working as usual, however. Nothing seemed out of place and rather than have people thinking he was seeing visions, he went back into his cabin. Seeing the bloody handkerchief lying on the table, he suddenly grinned.

Scarlette ran straight into Robin on her … his way down to the galley and Robin looked confused.

"Who …"

"It's Scarlette," the gorgeous man answered. "Follow me and I'll explain."

"Damn! You make a pretty man."

…

Scarlette-kun had just poured the hot water over his head, changing back into Scarlette-chan, when a wash of energy snapped through her blood, making the hair on her body stand on end. She shook and looked upwards. Robin was about to ask what was wrong when a maniacal laugh echoed through the thin walls of _The Necromancer_. Morgan was cackling.

Wanting to find out why and not liking the feeling she was getting, Scarlette rushed up to top deck, scurried up the stairs, and flung opened the cabin door. Robin followed her to the deck and waited with the men below.

In the cabin, Morgan was there, Anamaria standing in the corner, and Old Cheese, who had been making himself incredibly scarce since Scarlette had been given free reign, stood beside him. They were positioned in front of the little table, Morgan just having completed a long chant of ancient incantations. He held a hand over the basin on the table and dropped the handkerchief with Scarlette's blood into the basin, speaking in English for all to hear.

"And now, with the blood of thy enemy, I call you from your grave! Oh, great spirit, make me a zombie to match no other! Fire shall never again touch thy flesh! Come to me!" He pounded the table and the air in the room grew very thick. Old Cheese stepped away from the table, noticing Scarlette. He gave her a grin, his rotten and gaping smile showing. Scarlette wrinkled her nose.

She stepped up to the table just as an object floated above the basin. It looked like an old ring, encased in a mystical blue flame. The stone was dark, and there was some other design embedded in the center. It looked oddly familiar but she could not place where it had come from.

"Oh, good," Morgan grinned. "You're just going to _love _this little slice. Have a seat … you don't want to be standing when this spell finishes. Damn, I am _good _at this shit."

"Well, everyone's good at somethin', I s'pose," Old Cheese grinned. "I'm good at tellin' stories. How 'bout we have one!"

"NO!" Both Scarlette and Morgan shouted at once. Jack had told her how often Old Cheese, or _Le Vieux Fromage _had drifted off into story land, and Morgan knew firsthand.

There was a bang and everyone, even Anamaria, turned to see what was going on. The ring was still floating, but around it hovered ghostly images. Treasure untold of floated by, dissipating like smoke. A pistol discharged silently … blood welled up from somewhere … she saw her own face, a look of pure anger on it. Jack was in the images as well, falling overboard from some ship into the ocean. Elizabeth showed up, holding the medallion. There was a monkey ….

"Shit," Scarlette whispered. She'd meant to shout it, but could not find her voice. "Someone should change me back into a man … because I really don't want to be here when this spell finishes."

"Do you think she's figured it out?" Morgan asked Old Cheese, a sick smile on his face.

Scarlette looked at Morgan. "You have no idea what you are doing. You cannot control this spell. He will not submit to being your puppet."

"We shall see," Morgan pointed. "I'm surprised you could sense what was going on. Usually, one needs some sort of power themselves to be able to tell when something like this is going on. Of course, it does involve you." The ring had floated to hang over the floor, moving towards a chair that sat against the wall. It settled itself on the arm of the chair, balancing on its thin end as if it were actually on a ghostly hand, setting on the surface of the chair's arm.

The air around the chair began to glow.

…

Jack-chan stood still and closed her eyes as Lizzy poured a bucket of warm water over her head. The sodden person grew taller and a little bulkier, filling up the clothes she'd changed back into. Jack shook his head, water droplets flying in all directions. He looked in the mirror and frowned. He wiped off the makeup the girls had put on him and pulled on his unbraided beard. He twisted it quickly, playing with new ideas but shook his head, searching for the beads that went at the ends.

After braiding them in twin plaits, he came back onto the deck. His crew didn't look at him, careful not to meet their slightly self-conscious captain's eyes.

"You were a pretty hot chick, Jack," Tony called out, he and Sean completely comfortable with the idea.

"Yeah," Sean added. "I had no idea it was you! If you'd been a girl … damn. I guess you got lucky. You can be a good-looking girl and a guy. I dressed up as a woman once … I looked like a Spanish whore … a cheap one at that."

"That was pretty funny, though," Kristin added.

"Yeah," Tony laughed. "We blew into the parking lot; blasting "It's Raining Men" … I think some of those big burly men were blushing."

"'Dat's not all," Pintel added. "He looked like Missus Sparrow. Funny, ain't it? Dat's the second pink dress he's worn since we came back."

"Downright hilarious," Ragetti agreed. These two had taken to hanging with Tony and Sean and the combination had proved deadly. At least they weren't raving about badgers yet.

"Uh …" Jack wasn't sure what to think, so he looked out at the island. "What did you girls come up with?"

Chelsea gave him the quick notes version of their time on the island. He looked at the paper.

"Dragons," he muttered. "Bugger." Suddenly, his knees buckled and he fell to the deck, the little piece of paper fluttering to the floor. Everyone looked at him in horror.

"Something … something very wrong is happening right now," Jack groaned. Will and Bootstrap lifted him up by the armpits and Jack staggered, even with their help.

He turned to Will and gave a lopsided grin. "I'm not dead. I can walk."

"Sorry, Cap'n," Bootstrap spoke, keeping his grip. "We're not lettin' go. What's amiss, do ya think?"

"Hell if I know for sure," Jack grunted. "But it's not good. I've never felt this odd in my life … rum … give me rum, lads."

They put him to bed and since Gibbs was still out of commission, Bootstrap and Will took up the call of duty and sent Stevenson to look at Jack.

…

Norrington felt nervous. He did not like this island. Bad things had happened here. It was getting late and the moonlight glimmering on the surface of the waves was interrupted intermittently by the playing merfolk below the surface. He had been sitting in his cabin, trying to sleep, when he felt a cold draft. Knowing this was normal for being on the sea, he had tried to discount it. However, his mind did not let him rest, and when he felt the icy caress of something other than the wind, he sat bolt upright and lit the lantern beside him.

The air above him rippled and moved off towards the wall. It solidified … for the most part, and Norrington could see a transparent shape leaning against the cabin wall looking at him.

"Well, hello there dear," she spoke. "Surprised to see me?"

"D-Diana," he gulped. She laughed, her high-pitched voice making ripples in the sound spectrum.

"Yep. It's me. Honestly … you knew the story … you knew what would happen if the last ingredient was unwilling."

"Yes," Norrington swallowed again, reaching for his wig. "But I hadn't imagined that I would fail."

"I did," she commented. "Oh, leave that wretched thing off. I always thought you looked better without white hair."

He gave her a rather angry look. "Did you make that particular decision before or after you slipped me that love potion?"

She gave another tinny laugh. "Before, when I saw the movie, silly. And it wasn't as if you were courting anyone. Elizabeth and Robin had already married. Is that why you chose me for the final ingredient? Because you had awoken but hadn't wanted to dishonor your family?"

He didn't answer but continued to stare at the ghost of his wife. She smiled and 'sat' on the bed.

"And what about Jonathan," she whispered. "How is my child?"

"Why don't you find out for yourself," Norrington growled, rubbing his arms. "If you are a ghost, then why don't you just go and observe."

"Oh, I can't leave here," she answered. "Not until the ingredients are assembled again. I cannot even physically touch anything until the spell has been set. Once that happens, I get my chance to play the role of the 'Vengeful Ghost'." She leaned forward, as if to kiss him but stopped inches from his face, her dark eyes blaring into his soul. "And once the spell is set, I will fulfill that part of the legend."

Norrington's blood froze in his chest, carrying the chilled blood to his entire body. "You would kill me?"

"It _is_ part of the spell, is it not?" she asked. "If the Seeker fails, the 'death' of the spell waits until the next time and comes after the one who did the killing."

"But why did I fail?" Norrington asked her. "Everything was right …."

"Yes," Diana answered. "Everything but your wants. You wished to rid the world of pirates. As uncouth and dastardly as a pirate may seem … they are indeed people, darling. Thus, your wish fell into the category of 'harmful and selfish'. It wasn't even _your_ wish. You were following that midget's orders. That, and you used an unwilling death." Whoever 'that midget' was, Norrington didn't acknowledge the reference.

"Hah!" Norrington smiled. "No one would be willing to die for Sparrow. Except his wife. And she can't, because that bloody oaf Morgan has her trapped."

"Old Cheese is on _The Necromancer_," Diana said bluntly. Norrington paled. "And he's pissed that you framed him." She smiled. "I'm off to watch the others. Goodnight, dear. I hope your nightmares are … hehe … minimal." She placed a ghostly cold kiss on his forehead and backed off to grin one last time at him before she rushed at him and passed through his body, disappearing into the wall. Norrington's heart raced, his entire body chilled to the bone.

…

Scarlette watched the apparition change. There was a hand, forming at the ring and slowly materializing as pieces of … whatever it was, flew in through the open window. Mostly, it was a blackish grey color, but Scarlette had a horrible feeling about it. Pieces continued to fly to the mass of flesh. Soon there was a shoulder, neck, and the jaws of a person. The jaws, barely supported but somehow, stable, grinned, most of the flesh missing, and began to speak.

"Ah, Mrs. Sparrow. So nice to see you on this side of hell."

"Wh-who are you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Why, I'm a little insulted, milady. It be I, the cadaverous Captain of yer nightmares. Now … have a nap, and when I'm finished finding all me parts, we'll have a nice long chat."

She gave the apparition an odd look and he flicked a hand in her direction. Her knees crumpled and she blacked out.

"And here's a dose for her no good husband, as well," Barbossa, yes, he's … 'alive' … flicked again, in the direction of the window. "It won't be strong enough to knock him out, but he'll feel it. Ah, now I've got two hands … wonderful."

Jericho and Cob came in and picking up the unconscious Scarlette, laid her neatly in the bed, covering her still form and arranging her limbs comfortably.

Barbossa laughed, ashes coming out of his partially formed face. He now had one bright green eye, focused on the bed. "She's prettier than I remember, more woman than girl, I suppose. Wouldn't it be hilarious if she woke up and I was there staring at her? I've never heard this one scream, but that just might do it."

…

Jack was sitting in bed, shivering. He had three blankets around him, two lanterns were lit, and all of the future kids were in the room with him, asking questions very quickly. Everyone silenced themselves when a pale figure, dressed in lavender, glided _through the wall_ and lighted beside Claudia. Claudia's eyes grew wide as she inched away from Diana's ghost. "_Qué el infierno_!"

There was a general uproar as everyone freaked out in his or her own way. Claudia's way, to switch into rapid Spanish, was one of the funnier ones. Tony promptly passed out.

Jack wasn't getting any warmer … and the presence of the ghost made him shiver even more rapidly. She shrugged at the blatant reactions she got and lifted her voice in a rather annoyed manner. "Oh, come off it, guys. You know who I am."

"_Sí_," Claudia growled. "But I think we're surprised at the fact that you're … not alive."

Diana nodded. "I suppose he _would _keep that from you. No, I died, not too long ago. In fact, I died here on this island. Some poor old beggar was blamed for my death. In fact … he got so tired of denying killing me, he started making up wild stories about actually doing the deed."

Jack's eyebrows were furrowed. "Killed an officers wife … wouldn't be an old crazy bugger … Old Cheese."

"The very same," Diana spoke. "But it was not he who killed me. I think you've all been led on a merry chase and deserve to know what the hell is going on. So I'm going to tell you everything … or everything I know."

Everyone sat on the bed, Heather and Lizzy scooting back to flank Jack, also serving to keep him warmer. Tony was dragged to the foot of the bed but left on the floor. Chelsea and Kristin perched on the end of the bed. Claudia was staying in a chair near the door and Sean was on the floor, keeping tabs on Tony's vital signs. Kami, sporting a new bruise on her face from god knows what chose to stand as well.

"Alright. Well, it began when James, that is the Commodore Norrington, heard of the _Langue de Serpente,_ a great treasure somewhere, that held not only riches, but the power to grant any one want or wish. He was fed this information and told to find it by some calculating little man whose name I've forgotten. Norrington found all the information on this place that he could, which was quite a bit, concerning that no one knew much. The only person who seemed to know everything was an old man in jail. Norrington got him pardoned and released with the agreement that he would help. James wished to rid the world of pirates, or really, the man who had sent him here did. He would use the power of the _Langue de Serpente_ to do this.

"However, not everything went as planned. We managed to awaken the spirit in the cave and he told Norrington flatly that he might not succeed. It all depended on his wording and how he activated the spell.

"I was sent to the cannibals to get information, but Old Cheese knew most of what we needed. The dragons—"

"Hold on," Claudia interrupted. "Are you telling me dragons really do exist?"

Diana smiled and nodded. "Yes, here on the island is a great brace of dragons. The males are smaller and of a silver color. They aren't as aggressive as the bigger females. The females are the one's you're after. We got lucky and found some detached scales just outside the crater, but you may not be that lucky. The volcano is more active now than it used to be and any scales that have fallen are likely to be molten spots on the rock."

"Great," Sean grunted. "I am so 'not it' for the dragons, nose goes." He tapped his finger to his nose and looked around. No one was laughing.

"Anyways … the second ingredient, the blood … that needs to come from someone with close ties to death … Scarlette apparently has the kind of blood needed but she's a little hard to reach right now. My blood would have worked as well, having been cursed once … we'll get to that solution later. The third ingredient … you need to retrieve from the Lyandize, those mermaids in the cove. It's a coral staff stained a bright green by the sea. You need to barter with them as a mermaid would. I got to do this part as well … it was fun, actually, and they were quite sympathetic to my plight … they knew we wouldn't succeed and they knew I was going to die. They may not be so agreeable to you, however.

"The fourth ingredient … I never understood. It has to do with the bones that the cannibals have hung all over for warnings and such. They're stained black by the sulfuric acid all over the island … I think you're supposed to grind them … I never really understood because the lyrics for the riddle say dregs of black—"

"An onyx lie," Chelsea finished. "That's it! The bones are black, but when you grind them up, they're white, aren't they?"

"Yes," Diana nodded. "You're pretty smart. The fifth ingredient is a hair of a mermaid … not necessarily purple. That, I believe was just the original spell. We used a red one. We had all the ingredients right but the sixth and last one."

"Wait a minute," Jack cleared his throat from the back of the group. "Six? I was led to believe there were only five ingredients."

She shook her ghostly head. "No, there is a death needed to complete the spell. These ingredients are used to make a gris-gris or a powerful voodoo charm. The cannibals will help you … if you are a woman. To make the charm complete, someone must die to tie all the ingredients together. The spell, we found, is only completely successful if the death to make the charm is willing. We did not know this, and I died to make the charm, unwilling. I did not understand fully what the cannibals were trying to tell me. The leader speaks English, by the way. He was playing with you, showing you those drawings.

"They told me to take the charm and tell the one who wanted the spell cast that a death was needed to complete the spell, a sacrifice of sorts. We did not find out until it was too late that it needed to be a willing sacrifice. You see, my husband, Commodore James Norrington … killed me to fulfill the charm and rid the world of pirates."

The silence was thick for a few moments. The first one to speak was Jack. "You mean Norrington … is a murderer?"

Diana nodded.

He grinned. "I know this isn't exactly appropriate … but that's one of the best thing's I've heard in a while. That's the sort of information blackmailing can be based from."

"To his credit, he was a puppet for that man I mentioned before. He was under orders."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "What man? Who?"

"I have a terrible memory," Diana would have blushed had she had any blood … or a body. "He is very cold and practical … and very short and had enough clout to order James about."

Jack's blood ran cold for a moment. "Would he have anything to do with the East India Trading Company by chance?"

Diana nodded. "Yes, I think so. He was a name dropper, always mentioning that someone named Hanover, whatever that means, had placed him specifically in that position and that meant he could do whatever he wanted."

Jack sighed and felt like shaking the girl. "King George III appointed a representative to the Company not long after he was crowned … and that bastard had already had more than enough power to screw us over. Cutler Beckett is already making a nuisance of himself. This is a problem."

"Why is it that big of an issue?" Lizzy asked. "He's the Company chairman and now the King's rep … you're a pirate. He's always been a concern. What makes this different?"

Jack looked at her. "It means he's stopped relying on the law and started turning to magic to kill us off. It's very hypocritical of him. He hates anything that isn't normal and well within the parameters of what he thinks is proper. If he's desperate enough to get over his prejudices to kill us off using a method he personally hangs people for practicing then we are in trouble. He never does anything in a half assed manner. He _will_ do the research, no matter the subject, to end piracy. He is just that devoted to making interesting people's lives miserable." Jack looked at Diana. "Why not kill _him_ instead of Norrington? You'd be doing everyone a big favor."

Diana smiled. "As much as that idea does appeal to me, I am bound by the spells to seek revenge on the hand that killed me, if you succeed in completing the charm. We were aided by a ghost of a man that complained constantly. No one as of yet has succeeded in completing the charm. Most never got to the death part of it. Many perished with the dragons … a fair few with the Lyandize … the ghost helping us had been eaten by the alpha female of the dragons … he thought it funny that he hadn't noticed the scales on the ground until he was dead."

"What exactly happens if we don't complete the charm?" Kristen asked.

"If you gather all the ingredients and someone dies, then the demi-god will not kill you. However," she smiled. "The person who dies for the charm unwillingly will become a ghost … and wait its turn. The next group of people to try the spells will be aided by the ghost … because if someone succeeds in getting everything right, that ghost is set free to avenge their death, enabling them to rest at last. If you do not manage to find a willing sacrifice, I will forever haunt this island."

"Wow," Claudia amassed. "But who would be willing to die for this charm?"

That was the question everyone had been asking themselves since the subject had been made clear.

…

Scarlette opened her eyes and jolted, finding Barbossa inches from her face.

"Fuck! Get the hell away from me, you bastard."

Barbossa looked disappointed. "You've seen too much, girl, to not be scared enough to scream."

"Yeah, whatever. Don't touch me," she launched off the bed and landed, almost catlike on the floor.

"Your hair is not the golden wonder it used to be," Barbossa observed, looking her up and down. "You look even more like Jack now."

"We don't look alike," she muttered.

"No," he grinned, pieces of flesh hanging loose. "I suppose not too much. There is a certain resemblance, mostly in manner. I'd never mistake him for you." Barbossa laughed, not knowing just how funny that statement had been made by the day's earlier happenings. "But I'd say soul mates wouldn't be far off, if ye believe in such things."

She scowled at him and he laughed again, just full to the brim with mirth.

"I noticed you haven't tried to kill me yet," she spat.

Still chuckling, he began to speak, his voice still the gravely pitch it had been as a cursed pirate, a vampire, and now a zombie.

"Well, I'll be honest with ye, Sparrow," he paused glancing at the corner to where Anamaria still stood. "Great Scotts … she's dead. She makes a much prettier zombie than I do, I'll give her that much. He hasn't given her the ability to speak, however. A good little Necromancer, that brat."

Scarlette looked from Anamaria to Barbossa and shook her head furiously. "Dead? She's dead!"

"Come here, girl. Answer to the Sparrow wench." Anamaria stumbled forward and Scarlette could see her scowling at him. Her flesh looked almost pale in the light from the window.

"Now, Scarlette, if you will just prick your finger …."

"Er … what?"

"Trust me," he told her, smiling his yellowed grin at her in a less than endearing way.

"Trust you. Yeah … if I want to get dead."

"Honestly," Barbossa was there in a flash, stabbing her finger with a knife pulled from somewhere. He took a drop of the blood and wiped it on the dead lips of Anamaria. Her dark eyes widened as she looked questioningly to Barbossa. Something seemed to come over her and she licked the red liquid off in one fluid motion as if she hungered for more than was there. Suddenly, her eyes fell to Scarlette.

"Now, ask her your questions," Barbossa commanded. Scarlette held her finger with part of her shirt and for once, listened to the evil pirate.

"What happened?"

Anamaria opened her mouth. "I … I can speak now! Interesting. Well, I saw Morgan leading you down the pier in the backwater cay in Port Royal … only you were in disguise. Gibbs and I went to save you … and that's when I got shot. That bastard shot me in the stomach. I was taken to the Turner estate … where I died. Then, I was awake and it was nighttime. I was being led back to _The Necromancer _… and I couldn't talk … I couldn't do anything that Morgan forbid … like escape … or pantomime. But now I can, apparently. Why?" Her question was not for Scarlette and both women looked to Barbossa who seemed very happy, like the cat that ate the canary.

Barbossa nodded. "The thing is, Scarlette, you're growing in power. And you don't even realize it."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her patience not up for his games.

Anamaria spoke as well. "Do you know why your hair is black?"

"No clue. I figured it had something to do with the Native American side. My mother's hair darkened at about 30 years of age … although that wouldn't explain the rapidness."

"You are a necromancer, girl," Barbossa growled. "You weren't one before … but somehow …"

"This figurehead," Scarlette pointed out. "It _bit _me … and it listens to me now … that's how I saved Ruby."

"Its bite tried to corrupt you, I take it," Barbossa asked. She nodded and he smiled again. "And it left a stain. You're not as powerful as Morgan … and you didn't know about the power … so it leaked out … through your hair … into the ship. When was the last time you fed it?"

"Almost three weeks ago," she answered. "It didn't become visible until today as we neared the islands."

"Your power has been sustaining it because it wouldn't have anywhere else to go … since you don't know how to use it," Barbossa was a little too happy about this.

"What is your deal?" she asked him, throwing enough scorn into her words to burn a hole in the wall ... or not.

"Well, before I realized that this young woman was … dead … I was about to tell you, that I don't think much of this Morgan character. I'll follow as long as it suits me, but I intend to kill the Sparrows, unless, we strike a deal here and now."

"And what does this 'deal' entail?" Scarlette knew any deal made with Barbossa would need to be utterly specific. She was also remembering the words of the old woman. Libussa had told her not to make bargains … but if she could save herself and Jack without losing too much, then she would take it.

"You use the secret power of the _Langue de Serpente_ to restore me to life."

Scarlette was just a tad surprised. "That's it? I figured, being you and all, that you'd want to wish for something like world domination … or for everyone in the world to eat only green apples. Wishing for your life is actually pretty mild … what's the catch? Oh, wait. I know. Once you're alive again, you're going to try to kill us, is that right?"

"Eventually, my dear, but it wouldn't be me immediate plan," his teeth looked about to fall out of his head. "I really just want to find a few certain people, scare the livin' daylights out of 'em, eat some real food, have some pleasurable company … you know, the usual."

Scarlette's eyebrow was raised. "Are you telling me you want to blackmail me into wishing for you to live so that you can eat apples and get your oil changed?"

"Why is that so surprisin', eh? Ten years, I was cursed, another two, a vampire, drinkin' only the blood of sailors … and dead again, for ten years … now I'm a zombie … I haven't eaten anything besides blood and dirt in twenty-two years and had no company besides vampires and pirates, neither of which was very pleasurable. Except for yours, of course." Scarlette made a face and he laughed again.

He grabbed the front of Scarlette's shirt, bringing her close to all that decayed flesh. "And if you don't make that wish, I'll be killin' ye. Ye'll have a hard time disposin' of me this round, Sparrow. This flesh of mine won't burn, no bullet can harm me, and cutting off me limbs won't do much, neither." he released her roughly and she stumbled. Anamaria helped her up and glared at the evil captain.

"You must ask yourself this question," he posed. "Who do you hate more … Morgan, or me? Or would the question be; who more do you _fear_?"

Scarlette left the cabin in a hurry.

…

"What do you mean, Anamaria's dead?" Robin asked angrily. "We've been seeing her for two weeks now!"

"She's a zombie," Scarlette exlplained. "She died back when I tried to escape the first time, back in Port Royal. We never knew because we've been stuck here the whole time. Morgan brought her back as a zombie on the last trip around, and there's something worse. He did a major spell with his necromancy and now Barbossa is back, too. I should have known. Anti-conflagrated … it was a spell to bring back cremated corpses. Damn."

Elizabeth and Robin were silent, their faces contorting, but Shelly gave a blank stare.

"How?" Elizabeth asked incredulously. "How on earth can that fiend be back? We chopped him into little pieces, burned them, and scattered the ashes in different parts of the ocean." For someone who was prim and proper, she sure spoke casually of dismembering a vampire.

"Well, in the book, it was written as an 'anti-conflagration' spell," Scarlette tried to remember. "I guess the fact that he was nothing but ash didn't matter, although now I understand why it took him so long, and why he needed Anamaria. The spell called for blood and ash of the subject. Since we scattered the ash, and the blood was on _the Pearl_, Morgan needed to get it somehow. From the things scattered in the cabin, I'd guess that Gibbs provided the ash, unwillingly of course. And he used my blood in that spell … for the mortal enemy part. Anyway, it's going to be a bitch to kill him this time. He can't be shot, chopped, or burned to any real extent."

"Well … what are we going to do?" Elizabeth asked. "You'd probably be safer down here than roaming the decks."

Scarlette thought some more. "I'm going to escape."

"How?" Robin had her hands on her hips. "That thing will just nab you again."

"Not anymore," Scarlette answered, fingering a long lock of her now jet-black hair. "I can control it. After it bit me, it left a stain, and I guess now I'm a necromancer, too. Plus, it likes me better than it likes Morgan because I'm not the one who has trapped it to a solid object."

"I don't understand," Shelly groaned.

Scarlette looked up, dropping the lock of black hair. "That's why my hair went dark. I didn't know I had the power and the first time I used it was when I went to save Ruby. I had too much power for what I was doing and it needed an outlet, so it went into the water through my hair and turned it black in the process. Necromancy is a dark power, power over the dead. It tainted my hair because it had nothing else to do."

"What are we going to do?" Shelly asked frantically, not nearly as calculated as Elizabeth had been. "You're not going to leave us here, are you?"

"No, of course not," Scarlette answered. "We'll go tonight. Right now, even. We'll all go up top and I'll call the monster for a distraction. You guys jump over in the direction of _the Pearl_, I'll keep the men too busy to notice you guys makin' a break, and then when the time is right, I'll do my exit, and we'll be home free."

"What happens if Barbossa comes out to stop you?"

Scarlette shrugged. "I'll grab him with the monster, I guess. I'm not letting that bastard get too close, that's for sure."

She rummaged around the hold they were in, producing several pairs of pants and shirts. She passed them to the girls.

"You'll want to change into these. Swimming in dresses is hard work."

…

The four girls came out on the deck. It was late at night and not many men were up. Only the necessary to keep the ship in shape while anchored were on deck … Morgan wasn't to be seen anywhere.

"Forget the distraction," Scarlette whispered. "We're better off without it. There's only five of them. If I call the thing, there'll be more. It'd be easier to go out the cannon holes, but there are too many men below decks. Okay, you three, on that side. Follow the lights."

Scarlette took out her pistol and shot it just as the other three jumped. There was a lot of commotion as the men on deck ran at her. She pulled out her sword and pointed it at Bert, a challenge. There was no rule on _The Necromancer _that prohibited bladed duels.

"Well, come get me, ya little brat," she growled.

"No," a rough voice called. "It's my turn. It's been a while since the lady and I had a chance to dance." Barbossa strode through the men and pulled out his old sword, just as rough and aged as he was. Everyone backed off away from the two and Scarlette and Barbossa began to circle slowly.

The first clash of the blades sent the crew into cheers. They had never seen Barbossa fight and Scarlette was definitely on form tonight. They gave quite a show, Scarlette blocking a wild barrage of attacks and reposting with her own arsenal of kinetic tricks.

"My, you've become much better at this since last we fought," Barbossa growled as they clashed, inches from each other, the metal of the blades straining.

"And you still suck," she retorted, shoving him off with a strength that surprised him.

"Oh, I seem to recall the last time we crossed blades, I killed you," he grinned, slashing at her and lunging in a mirror of what he'd done years before.

"Nearly," she smirked, parrying the attack that had indeed almost killed her all those years ago. Before he could get back into position, she decked him in the face with her left hand, and bolted towards the gunwales, sprinting full out.

Barbossa went to flick his hand to stop her but she turned and pulled a Will Turner, throwing her blade end over end at the zombie pirate. By the time he'd dodged the weapon, she'd flipped over the side, changing her tumble into a swan dive and disappearing below the water. She knew better than to come up for air so soon and stroked deeper, propelling herself along the stern to where the moon did not shine so brightly.

She surfaced, holding onto the anchor line. She grabbed a huge breath and pulled herself under, hanging onto the rope. She would stay here for a while. She could hold her breath for over a minute.

After about five breaths, she felt that the noise topside had calmed and she began taking slow, smooth strokes to get to _the Pearl_.

About halfway, she realized that she was not alone in the water … There were dark caudal fins slicing the waves alongside her and the wispy feeling of hair touching her arms.

They surfaced, a handful of merfolk, Lyandize. They smiled with their serrated teeth at her and two of them gripped her arms, dragging her down before she had chance to take another breath. Her voice bubbled up in a squeak of futility.

The sea seemed to zoom by as she felt the ocean pressing around her body. They were going deep, and she closed her eyes, hoping she drowned before they could eat her. Her thoughts as she blacked out went to her friends.

…

Finally, after an exhausting night, dawn fell into the cove. Two of the three crews were in an uproar for mostly one reason. Scarlette was not on either ship, although no one knew otherwise.

_The Necromancer_'s crew had been told not to let on that anything had gone wrong because Morgan was prideful. _The Pearl _didn't want to seem too angry because Scarlette hadn't escaped. Norrington was pretty much cut out of the loop and his crew didn't really care anyways. A Sparrow on board _The Dauntless _would be either fun or disaster from both points of view.

That morning, Jack had been told that Robin, Elizabeth, and a newcomer, had made it aboard in the night, but Scarlette was still stuck on the other ship. He was mighty angry about this but terrified when it was mentioned that Barbossa was alive again, not to mention Anamaria's zombie. Gibbs exploded when he heard that news.

"She was here last night! I thought I was dreamin', but when I woke, me bag was gone."

Jack had his own deep expression when it came to news of Anamaria. His face went through a myriad of different positions but he said nothing about it.

Jack could not leave the ship. He was still recovering from the shock and the spell Barbossa had thrown at him the night before. Therefore, it fell to the grand team of Will, Bootstrap, Gibbs, Heather, Topher, Kami, Kristin, Lizzy, Chelsea, Sean, Tony, and Claudia. Not to mention, Diana kept floating in and out of the picture.

Chelsea, being the brains of the operation, suggested they break into pairs. Once that had been done, she brought out a bag with five index cards. She had written each of the objects on them and would have liked to leave it up to fate. She and Kristin would be going into the village to try and get someone to sacrifice themselves for the cause. Everyone else was left to draw.

Bootstrap and Gibbs laughed nervously when they drew the mermaid's staff. Lizzy and Claudia drew the bones … Sean and Tony drew the blood, Will and Topher drawing the mermaid's hair … that left Heather and Kami with the dragons. There were offers to trade, made mostly by the men … but Heather and Kami, not hard-core feminists but still for equal rights, declined … a bit reluctantly.

And the twelve members of Team Pearl were sent to shore … breaking off in separate directions once hitting the beach.

And somewhere … halfway around the island, someone opened a dazzling yet cloudy pair of eyes …

…

Yep. Honey roasted. I do know the rules of English. One does not start sentences with the word _and_ … but sometimes, for systematic purposes, one must do it this way.

So yeah. Barbossa is alive. Again. Sort of. I did it because he's greater than any villain I could come up with myself. Morgan is nicer than villains should be. I had no idea that the esteemed PotC; DMC writers would come up with someone as grand as Davy Jones. And Beckett! Holy crap, Beckett. Fabulous. I promise, you guys will get to play with those jerks lots in coming chapters. After Chapter 10, I start tying the two stories together. As you may have noticed, I've added little touches here and there. A mention of Beckett and Mercer, Bootstrap's fear of the ocean … stuff like that.

And good old Doc Mulligan … who is a completely different problem that will not actually be explained until the fourth installment in my series.


	11. Chapter X: Voodoo Cookbook

Hi there, kids! How's it going! I just finished reading (as in May 3rd, 06) a really great Ranma fic called Hearts of Ice … I don't think it's finished yet … cliffhanger chapter … it better not be done, any way … It can't end like that! Notin' too exciting's been happening … I'm kind of secluded in the woods … hiding out … Technically …I'm not supposed to be here … Shhh. (More on that story later)

**Chapter X –Voodoo Cookbook **(That's a lot of Oooooooo's)

Scarlette felt warm, for the most part anyway. Her legs felt almost weightless. She blinked open her eyes in the morning sunlight and sat up wearily. She was on the shore, but there were no ships in sight. She could see one of the other islands in the distance, birds flying against its peaks.

"Awake, are you?" a scornful woman's voice called out, too deep to be shrill but cutting nonetheless. "I still say we should kill her."

"Shut up, Sanel," a male voice reprimanded. "You always want to kill the women." Scarlette looked around to find herself surrounded by people, some in the water, some on the land. The ones in the water differed … a bit. They had tails and scales and bright colored skin and hair that humans just did not possess.

"What's going on?" she asked, looking at the strange people. One of the land walkers sat next to her and she noticed that his eyes were grey. Not the stone grey humans have, but a steel grey that some dogs possess.

"I am Dacor, the leader of the Lyandize in this area."

"Lyandize … would you be merfolk, then?"

"Yes. These are my tribe members. We pulled you from the sea last night."

"Yeah, about that," Scarlette began. "Why? I was pretty sure you were going to kill me … not that I'm complaining, but why didn't you?"

"We sensed that you had powers concerning the dead," another said, sitting on her other side. "I'm Raare." His eyes and hair were black as night and he pronounced his name 'Rah-rei'.

"Yeah, I guess," Scarlette answered. "What's it to you?"

"We need to know how to control … a demi-god," A very large one spoke. He was introduced as Wiobr.

"You see," Raare spoke again. "We all have the ability to use all types of magic, some have certain specialties. We fear that soon someone will succeed in completing the spells, which in turn will releases the deity in the cave. Since the Lyandize are the ones who helped placed it there in the beginning, we believe it will come after us once free. We have lost the manuscripts containing the necessary means of controlling the monster."

Scarlette thought … deity? Since she'd never been up to the cave, she'd never seen the thing, but she did remember the book in Morgan's cabin.

"I can get you a book," she told them. "But you have to help me. I need to get back to _the Pearl_."

"The occupants of _the Pearl _are searching for the ingredients of the _Langue de Serpente_," Sanel, the only female hissed, flicking her whore red hair off her face. "We do not want them to complete that spell. It will only endanger us."

"Not if she brings us this book," Dewhi, another of the Lyandize retorted. "Plus, they can't finish the spell without our staff. We have to choose to help them or hinder them."

"Helping would be nice," Scarlette muttered, feeling slightly upstaged. "Plus, if I get you the book, you'll owe me. So here's an idea. We go and get that book … and then you guys take me back to _the Pearl _and let us borrow that staff thing you were just talking about. That way, when we complete the spell successfully, the monster can be controlled by you, and no one gets hurt. In fact … we're not even the ones who want to finish this thing. It's all the stupid guy in the big dead boat's idea. He kidnapped a few of us to give _the Pearl_'s crew incentive. I guess now that we've all escaped, we can just go home and forget about this treasure."

"No," Dacor contradicted. "You can't leave or you'll all die. Everyone who initiated the spell must complete it or they will be killed by the thing in the cave. Even if the spell fails, by a wrong ingredient or a bad death, you'll be safe. If you just leave without assembling the charm, everyone will perish."

"Well, damn," Scarlette splashed the water with her hand. "What about the deal I've proposed. I get you the book and you help us."

Dacor and Dewhi exchanged glances.

…

Scarlette was hauled back into _The Necromancer _at about noon, looking sullen. She was promptly locked in the cabin. Luckily, it was only occupied Barbossa … Luckily? Morgan wasn't around. Scarlette quickly found the book and marked the page where she'd read the deity binding spell.

"What be you doin', Sparrow?" Barbie growled, brushing a bit of weed off his coat.

"Reading," she answered. She felt it when the Lyandize began attacking the hull. The figurehead went a little crazy. Scarlette hung onto the book and gave the door a good kick, level with the knob. The door flew open and she ran to the anchor side again. It wouldn't be good to get the book wet, after all. She slid down the line attached to the anchor, a bit of fabric tied to her hand to prevent from ripping her palm up with the coarse rope.

She slid into the water, holding the book above her head. One of the Lyandize came up next to her.

"Hey. I'm Alfor. My vice is water. Here, I'll make it water proof so we can get out of here faster." He pointed to the book and grabbed her hand. She gulped in air as they disappeared from the scene. Escaping from _The Necromancer _was much easier when the monster didn't try to eat her.

They arrived back on the beach, but this time, they had visitors.

Gibbs and Bootstrap stood in awe as Scarlette came out of the sea, with an escort of thirteen Lyandize merfolk. They smiled their shark like grins at the men as their tails turned into legs.

Dacor handed the staff to Scarlette. "Here. This is the 'emerald tail' ingredient. Good luck with the others. Thank you for the book."

Scarlette joined the two men and they began to walk back to the cove. "That was a little too easy," Scarlette spoke carefully.

"Well, we got our ingredient," Gibbs smiled. "And we got Scarlette back. Jack'll be just peached."

Bootstrap put an arm around her shoulders as they hiked back across the beach. "You have no idea how much you scared me, coming out of the sea with creatures like that. For an instant there, I'd thought you'd done something rash."

"What are you talking about?" she asked curiously. He looked at her, startled. He smiled then and laughed.

"Oh. Never you mind, lass. Just be glad I was wrong."

Scarlette fixed an odd look on Bootstrap and continued walking, wondering just what Bootstrap had on his mind.

…

Chelsea and Kristin, having spoken to the septum pierced man in the village, in English, were turned away after he made an announcement to the tribe. He'd asked them in Mekwahz if any of them would like to give their lives for the spell. No takers had come up. The girls reluctantly left the village and returned to the beach, where Gibbs, Bootstrap, and a dark haired woman sat laughing.

"Hello," Chelsea greeted a little desperately. "Who's your new friend?" Just then, the woman turned and both Kristin and Chelsea jumped.

"Scarlette?"

"Who else?" the pirate woman asked, smirking in a shadowed resemblance of her husband.

"You look a lot like Jack with all that dark hair," Kristin assessed. "Why is it black?"

"Magic."

"Ah," she answered, slightly miffed at Scarlette's nonchalance. "I see."

"We've got the staff," Gibbs held up the green piece of coral.

"We didn't get the death," Chelsea reported glumly. "None of them wanted to die, I guess."

"What are the other ingredients?" Scarlette asked.

"We need a willing death, some dragon scales, gold variety," Chelsea began.

"Dragons don't exist," Scarlette spoke.

"Hmph," Gibbs grunted. "Shows what you know."

"Blood tainted by death, a mermaid's hair … some bone fragments from the town."

"Hey," Scarlette held out a hand. "I've got your blood right here. And it's tainted all right."

"Great," Chelsea spoke. "Two out of six ingredients." She sounded less than enthusiastic.

…

Lizzy and Claudia nervously walked through the village, looking at the blackened skeletons hung everywhere. Claudia moseyed up to one and looked at Lizzy. Lizzy was very nervous. She was the one who would do the distracting.

She stood in the center of the village, attracting a little attention as a few of the natives pointed her out. She suddenly began to wave her arms and dance about, singing at the top of her lungs.

"_It's a small world after all; it's a small world after all _…"

"Holy crap!" Claudia snickered as the natives surrounded Lizzy and started mimicking her movements.

"_It's a world of laughter, a world of tears, it's a world of hopes and a world of fears _…"

Claudia grabbed the femur of the skeleton and yanked it off quickly. The rest of the leg was tied to the pole and stayed. She doubted anyone would notice it unless scrutiny of the utmost thoroughness was in line that day.

"_It's a small world after all_!" Lizzy stopped and shoved her way out of the cluster of natives. They laughed and started singing themselves, crudely trying to form the English words.

"_Itz ha smerered aftawah _…"

"Did you get it?" Lizzy asked as she caught up with Claudia.

"Yeah, I got it," she snickered again. "You were great. Too bad you didn't have to go into the Spanish and French verses. That would have been _muy _entertaining."

"Shut up," she told her friend as they walked through the jungle towards the beach, Claudia clutching the bone to her chest and trying to ignore the icky feeling she got from touching it.

…

"Jaskins!" cried two voices at once. Sean and Tony ran Scarlette right over in their enthusiasm for her return.

"We're so glad to see you!" Sean exclaimed.

"Even though we didn't get the blood," Tony added. Scarlette smiled.

"That's okay," she said. "I got it instead."

Will and Topher came running up the beach at the same time Lizzy and Claudia broke from the jungle.

Claudia handed a blackened bone to Chelsea, who put it in the boat with the staff. Will and Topher were empty handed.

"We couldn't get near them," Will answered upon enquiry. "As soon as they saw us, they took off into the water. Hello, Scarlette. Glad to see you managed to escape today. We were worried about you."

"Well, aren't you cute," Scarlette crooned, pinching his cheek. Will gave her an odd look. Future humor still eluded him.

"Your hair is black!" Claudia exclaimed.

"Yeah, yeah," Scarlette waved them off. "Will, Topher, come with me. I've sort of got an alliance with the merfolk at the moment." She led them off down the beach and soon, they couldn't be seen.

"Well, we've got three," Chelsea counted. "Four if they come back with the hair. We need that scale and someone to die willingly for the spell to work."

"I wonder how the scale search is going," Tony wandered aloud. (Yes, wandered.)

…

Kami and Heather had hiked up the volcano, gripping the rough rock and hoisting themselves slowly but surely up the mountain. They were covered in soot and resembled extras from the "Chim Chimney" scene in "Mary Poppins".

Finally reaching the top, they looked into the crater. There was obviously lava, or something red and glowing, giving off lots of heat hundreds of feet down, but no dragons could be seen.

"How do you think we get down?" Heather whispered. Kami pointed to a ledge that traversed a ways to the start of a slope. It looked like it went clear to the bottom. They carefully moved along the edge of the cavern until they got to the ledge. It was easier to walk along the stone this way, their left hands against the lava rock as they made the descent.

There was a constant plume of smoke issuing from below, and through the screen of it, Heather could see something move. She pointed and Kami squinted. Something huge scrambled upwards, its wings tucked in against its sides.

"It's silver," Heather whispered. "If that's a male … then shit! The females are supposed to be bigger!"

"Kinda wish we had tranq darts," Kami grunted. "Let's do the rope thing we talked about."

They made their way back up to the top and rigged a system of rope ladders. They anchored about eight of them on the side they would descend and one long one across the chasm. They had found them near the volcano and could only surmise that they had been used for just that.

They made their descent, rope harnesses attached to the top with so much rope as to lower them nearly to the bottom, or so they estimated. They found an opening about twenty feet down, a sort of ledge built into the wall of the volcano. There were some old nests but no eggs or babies. And only a smattering of scales, none of them gold. It looked as if the babies were born a bronze color.

They began to climb some more, moving at sort of a diagonal slope, steadily downwards. They reached another of the breaks in the wall, but before descending into it, Kami's leg was grabbed by something inside and her rope snapped. She shouted in alarm.

"Run! Go back!"

Heather started climbing furiously upwards, but the dragons had seen her now. Two of them, large golden females with glistening teeth glowered at her and began scaling the wall to get at her soft and tasty body. She climbed with speed she'd never thought she possessed and cleared the top of the hole, just inches ahead of the lead dragon. She felt the hot breath of her pursuers and ducked out of the way just in time as a brilliantly scalding plume of fire seared through the late afternoon air. The rope that connected to her harness dissolved in the fire.

The lead dragon had been tangled in the ropes crossing the giant hole. Heather grabbed the rungs, attempting to twist them and choke off the dragon. Suddenly, she disappeared, dropping into the volcano. Heather stood, craning her neck to look over. Nearly twenty dragons had taken flight, all shooting for … the sky above the volcano.

Heather tried to jump away but was not quick enough in this decision and when the female entangled in the ladder broke into the sky, the ladder snapped from its holds.

Heather wasn't sure what had happened when she found herself upside down staring at the ground from a hundred feet in the air. Looking up, she found that her foot was also tangled in the rope ladder and she was attached to a very pissed off dragoness.

She pulled herself up, gripping the ladder and climbing upwards, trying her best not to scream. The dragon was ignoring the ladder that hung from her neck, frantically beating the air with her great golden wings. Heather managed to get a ways up the ladder but could not get any closer for fear of the wings knocking her clear.

When the female took a dive, Heather did scream, full of adrenaline. The rope flew up and she found herself behind the dragon. The golden creature had dove towards the ocean, like a pterodactyl. She scooped up some fish with her long wicked snout. Heather landed on her back, grabbing around her neck for fear of her life. The female snapped her head up, wondering what was attached to her.

Heather, wanting to get something out of this terrifying experience, yanked out one of the dragon's scales and pocketed it before the angry dragon took off into the sky again. Heather could see the other dragons, retreating back to the volcano, their bellies full of fish. Her dragon, however, knew that there was something, Heather indeed, clinging to it and it wanted free of her. The dragon shot into the sky and made an abrupt change in direction. She dove headlong toward the jungle, Heather hanging on for dear life, her eyes shut tightly.

The dragon entered the jungle at an alarming rate, dodging trees with milliseconds to spare. Heather felt the wind change and opened her eyes just as the dragon crash landed, tearing a large scar in the jungle's foliage. Heather jumped off and ran deeper into the jungle, crouching in some bushes, hiding from the dragon.

The female stood on her hind legs and looked around, her jewel red eyes seething with suspicions. After a few minutes, she saw nothing of interest and took off into the air again. Heather finally let out a whoosh of air and sat down hard on the jungle earth, feeling the scale bite into her flesh, even through the jeans she wore.

"Holy crap!" she exclaimed, attempting to stand. Her legs were shaking like jello but she was pretty sure she could walk. A shadow passed over the jungle as another dragon swooped overhead. Heather threw herself to the ground. When the danger seemed to have passed, she stood again, steadying herself against a wind bowed tree.

"Now … which way do I go?" she wondered. She walked for a bit until she could see the volcano through the canopy. She clapped a hand to her mouth.

"I hope Kami got away," she spoke out loud, comforting herself. She was covered in cuts and bruises, although she wasn't sure how bad the bruising was yet, what with all the soot. Using the volcano to orient herself, she started off in a different direction, making her way through the dense jungle. Soon, she was passing through the cannibal's village, the natives pointing at her and making flying signs with their hands. Entering the jungle once again, she made another twenty-minute journey, coming out on the beach.

"Thank God!" a voice exclaimed. Kami ran, or, more accurately limped, over to where Heather was standing. "I thought you'd died!"

"Are you all right?" Heather asked her. Kami showed her the leg she favored.

"I got bitten in the initial attack," she explained. "But you were a moving target and soon, the whole colony had taken to the skies. I was left in the nest. The babies chased me out, but not before I got this," she held up a scale. Heather smiled and pulled out her own scale.

"I rode a dragon!" she exclaimed. "I got caught up in the ladder across the top and one of them flew right through it and took me into the sky too."

"We should use your scale," Kami commented. "It was taken from a living specimen after all. We don't know the origin of mine."

"Five ingredients," Chelsea called out, taking the scale. Will, Scarlette, and Topher had come back with the hair. "All we need now is for someone to die willingly. We have six days to find someone."

"We might as well have six years," Claudia groaned.

…

"What?" Norrington exclaimed as Diana hovered in his cabin.

"Yep," she grinned. "Day one and they've already got five out of six ingredients."

Norrington smiled. "Can't find a willing death, eh?"

"Not yet," Diana nodded. "But we still have six days, dear. And then I'm coming after you."

"You can't do that," Norrington waved her off. "They'll never find a willing death on this island. You haven't thought it through, yet. What happens if you kill me? What of our son, Jonathan?"

Diana smiled. "Claudia will take him back to the future with her. We've already talked about it."

Norrington glared at her. "I do not think anyone will die for that spell. Even if the three women aboard _The Necromancer_—"

"They're on _the Pearl _now," Diana told him. "They managed to escape. And Barbossa is alive once again."

"What?" Norrington stood. "Inconceivable! Well … I suppose that helps me more than it hurts. He'll see to it that the Sparrows and company don't get very far, at least not unhindered."

Diana laughed. "I can't wait 'til I get to kill you!"

"I despise you, woman."

"Oh, I'm so glad."

…

Once the boat got back to _the Pearl_, there was a lot of loud swearing as Scarlette literally launched from it, knocking Gibbs and Tony over in her attempt at being the first on board. Tripping over the gunwales, she rolled neatly and sprang to her feat, sprinting to the cabin. She even managed to run past Ragetti and Pintel without noticing them, and she was not a particularly unobservant person.

She wrenched opened the door and entered the dark cabin. The crew had been on pause as they watched her and a few seconds after the door shut, they resumed their movement. The rest of the passengers clambered aboard. Chelsea held a bag with the four solid ingredients and looked at the door. Claudia nudged her.

"You might want to wait until they come out," she told her. "They haven't seen each other in a while."

…

Morgan was in _his_ cabin, binding his leg. For some reason, he had a huge gash on his leg … he hadn't tripped or hit anything and he hadn't been to shore. There was no explanation for it. Barbossa was watching him as he bandaged the wound.

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing," Morgan answered. "That's what's weird about this. I didn't hurt myself. I just started bleeding and damn if it doesn't sting like a bitch. Maybe I caught it on a nail or something."

Barbossa frowned. "Only two things I ever heard did stuff like that. One's a stigmata … that's not in the right place, though. Other one is a weird one. It happened to a friend of mine. Some witch told us it was because his ancestor had gone forward in time somehow, to the same time, and gotten hurt. Since the time difference wasn't present anymore … the wound appeared on both men."

"Are you saying one of my ancestors has come into this time?"

Barbossa smiled. "Somethin' like that. Funny name, Maxwell … not too common 'round here."

Morgan just looked at him, still stooped over his leg. "Are you telling me that the Sparrow wench and I may be related?"

Barbossa shrugged. "I don't know. I doubt it. I've come close enough to killin' her that you'd have felt the damage by now. Whatever it is, it isn't a link between the two of you."

…

Scarlette was inches from Jack's face when he opened his eyes. At first, he was sure he was dreaming. She smiled at him and waited for him to wake up fully.

"Scarlette?"

"Nah … I am the Grim Reaper!" She brought out her hands like claws and attacked him. "Who did you expect, babe?"

Jack clamped her to him so tightly she had trouble breathing for a second. The warmth was returning to his body now and he was glad.

"I'm not dreaming, am I?"

"No … you're not dreaming … and nor am I."

He took her face and kissed her like he hadn't in all the time they'd been apart.

"Gee," she said afterward, a bit dizzy with excitement. "This is like the time you died and were gone for months."

A gunshot rang, slicing through the air and interrupting Jack's next retort. He grabbed her hand and ran to the door, flinging it open. Kami was on the deck, bleeding.

…

Morgan had gone to the gunwales and shouted over at _the Pearl_. "Hey!" Once he had their attention, he began speaking. The sun was going down fast and it was getting harder to see.

"Does anyone on board that ship have a wound on their right leg, in the calf area? We've got some weird … merged plane injury going on."

No one answered, but Gibbs leveled his pistol and shot, the bullet ringing true and smashing into Morgan's shoulder.

On deck behind Gibbs, Kami cried out as a great spurt of blood flew up from _her_ shoulder. She collapsed to the deck in agony.

Gibbs looked down at her and then at his gun. "What the blazes?"

Jack and Scarlette were on the deck now and Jack was livid. "Gibbs! What is the meaning of this?"

Gibbs looked utterly baffled. Morgan across the way held his shoulder. "I guess that's all I needed to know. Thanks for nothing, my dolly bastards."

"Shut yer gip!" Gibbs shouted at him. "Or I'll shoot ye again."

"You'd better not," Kami groaned, holding her shoulder. "Not 'til we figure this out."

She was carried below and seen to as Scarlette looked over to the other ship. "What just happened? Morgan! What the hell?"

"I think I'm that girl's descendant," Morgan shouted. "A wound appeared on my leg not too long ago and when I called over to your sunny decks to inquire about it, that bastard shot me … and she fell, with the same wound. Barbossa says it's because we're in the same time and the 'powers that be' can't differentiate between bodies."

"Odd," Ryoko thought aloud. "But strangely compelling." She went to find Chelsea. She bade the girl to follow and they went to where Kami was being treated. "I have an idea," she began.

…

"And it's that simple. Well … I suppose simple isn't the word to use for it." Scarlette ended, flinching as Kami shouted in pain. Stevenson had just pressed the flaming hot poker to the wound.

"And I would come back in a week?"

"Precisely. We've used it before and it's always worked. You should have seen the faces of those soldiers that time in London." Scarlette smiled confidently. "And we wouldn't totally be cheating death … because Morgan will be on the other side of it. We'd kill a few birds with one stone … but then Barbossa would be there and we'd have to tend with him."

"Meh," Chelsea shrugged. "You've done it before, haven't you?"

"Yes," Scarlette answered. "But then, he could be killed. It's going to take a bit of imagination to kill him this time."

"Good thing you've got lots of that," Kami grunted. "Otherwise your other plan wouldn't have surfaced."

"Well," Scarlette shrugged "I don't know if it'll work for the charm, but no one we care about will die."

A scream ripped through the air and the three girls looked at each other as the deck shifted sideways. They broke for the stairs without speaking.

…

The figurehead, without Scarlette's … nourishing power, had grown hungry. It had snatched the first thing that looked like a suitable meal for it. It had come onto _the Pearl_, making the ship list to starboard. Seizing the first person fit to feed its appetite, its spindly claws had fastened around Shelly, and now the monster, jumping off the deck and disappearing into the water, was unreachable.

Scarlette reeled as the world righted itself. _The Pearl _was moving out now, away from _The Necromancer _and Scarlette had no choice but to hold on. She had removed her boots and shirt and was poised on the gunwale, hanging onto the rigging, preparing to jump when a strong hand closed around her arm and pulled her back down. Seconds later, bullets whizzed overhead. She broke free and found herself staring at Jack.

"Don't you dare dive in after her," he growled. "I've lost you a few too many times to have that kind of patience for heroics anymore."

"You don't get it," I told him. "I can control that thing. Morgan may not save her."

"Look's like it's too late," Gibbs spoke in a shaky voice, pointing. The thing had returned to the bow, blood running anew down its front, staining its mouth as well. Shelly was nowhere to be seen … and suddenly, a splash could be detected, and one of the Lyandize surfaced.

"Did you get her? Is she safe?" Scarlette called out.

"I'm sorry," it was Alfor. "She … she's dead. She didn't make it."

"Shit," Scarlette thunked the wooden siding on the ship with her fist. "I have to go back over there."

"No," Jack answered, tightening his grip on her.

"If I don't, it will continue to feed on other people. I can sustain it just by being aboard. And maybe, if I figure it out, I can set it free so it won't be attached to the ship.

"Won't it eat you?"

"Nope," Scarlette grinned. "It likes me better than him, and is more prone to listen to me."

Jack touched the side of her head. "You hair … its dark … I had noticed it before … why?"

"Side effects of the whole getting bitten by the figurehead thing."

He pulled her to him quickly. "What do we need to do?"

She smiled against his warm neck. "Whenever it comes towards the ship, I'll jump in and grab a hold of it before it hurts anyone. A little blood should satisfy it for at least three days. Shouldn't be difficult."

"So it's fine for three days?"

"Yes."

"Good." he grinned, his palm warm against the back of her neck. "'Cause you're stayin' with me tonight."

…

Scarlette woke, slightly alarmed … There were arms wrapped tightly about her body … having been stuck on the other ship for so long, she'd forgotten about the previous day's escapades of escape. She could only imagine who was behind her and hoped it wasn't Morgan, or worse. Worse needn't be written to be understood.

Shrieking and fighting she was surprised but relieved to see Jack's sleepy face. He grinned at her. "One would think we were past all that, eh?'

"Sorry …" she smiled sheepishly. "I … forgot. It's been a while since I woke up thinking it was okay for someone to be in bed with me."

"Understandable …" he smiled. "We have to worry about finding someone to die for us today." It was an odd phrase but Scarlette understood.

"No we don't," she grinned at him, flipping her … black hair … out of her face. "I've got a plan, and I think it just might work … They didn't get all of Barbossa's blood … only the one container. Which means, we've got a way of getting our willing death … and not having anyone we _care _about die … as long as _the Pearl _is well out of the way, anyway. This ship can't be anywhere near _The Necromancer _when we finish the charm."

"What is this great idea?" Jack asked her.

"I'll tell you on the way to the village."

"I can't go into the village, luv."

"Why not?"

Jack sighed. "I feel pretty horrible about not being in on the ingredients chase … I was in shock, I suppose. Something … hit me the other night and I was incapacitated … but the truth of the matter is … none of the men can travel into the village. The cave monster that this whole arcane recipe is for told us to take no men into the village."

Scarlette smirked. "We can always get that Nyannichuan powder from the other ship again …."

"The what?"

"The stuff that turned you into a girl."

"Oh …" Jack shivered. "No … I'd rather not go through that again. Besides … due to … interesting happenings in my past I have a rather itchy spot for cannibals. I'd just as well not go near them, if I can help it. Never know what might happen."

Scarlette frowned. "What on earth are you talking about?" Jack smiled and looked away.

"Maybe I'll tell you the story of the Pelegostos one day."

"I guess it isn't Nyannichuan …" Scarlette spoke in a rather suspicious tone. "It changed me into a guy … which means it just switches, I guess. The Nyannichuan only changes things into girls. Meh."

Jack had fixed her with a stern eye. "What are you up to? Is this more of that Japanese stuff you used to talk about?"

"Chinese, actually. I'd explain, but there would have to be a huge disclaimer and I know the author's too lazy to put that in. That and you're not explaining yourself, either. Anyways, my plan."

"Yes, you were talking about your plan," Jack moved in closer, touching noses with her and teasing a bit.

Scarlette was enamored and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she was frowning. "Stop trying to distract me."

"Oh, but you're easily distracted, luv." He smiled at her. "You were saying?"

Scarlette glowered at him but continued. "Well, we discovered that Kami, whose last name is _also_ Maxwell, is somehow connected to Morgan … he's her ancestor, apparently. Well, the weird thing is … whenever we hurt one of them, the other one also feels the pain … something about … what did he say … merged planes … ah hah! The two of them were never supposed to be in the same era … and so the time difference has confused the material plane! The injuries show up on both of them. Since sending Kami back into the future would fix her wounds, she wouldn't die, but Morgan would, giving us our death!"

Jack nodded. "Sounds good … but won't Morgan's wounds heal too? If they're linked, wouldn't her healing mirror onto him?'

"I don't think so," Scarlette answered. "I believe the link exists only when they are on the same plane … Sending her forward would break the link at the crucial moment … Even if it doesn't work, we'll have completed the charm. No one will get their wish granted and there won't be any treasure … but the thing won't slaughter everyone … and we'll just go home … Our only problems after that will be the navy, wanting their idol, Morgan, if he lives, and Barbossa … who I really don't want to tangle with anymore."

Jack nodded. "It's worth a shot. It's only day two … we'll see what happens, eh?"

She grinned. "We're outta here, babe."

…

Norrington had fallen asleep with his head on his desk. Fomosa and Gillette had been knocking for a few seconds, jarring him awake. He shook his head and sat up groggily.

"What is it?" He called through the door, straightening his wig.

"It's the Sparrows, sir," Gillette announced through the thick wood. "They've been reunited and it turns out _the Pearl _has all the ingredients …"

Norrington smiled. "They don't have anyone to die for them, yet."

"They do, indeed," Fomosa commented. "I heard them talking about it on their way through the jungle … They said they'd make it as painless as possible and this girl with them just nodded … She looked drunk, sir."

Norrington's temper, a thing usually calm and controlled, exploded and erupted in a scalding wave of pure rage and fear … "Ready the boats … we're going after them!"

…

Morgan was in a rowboat with Barbossa and Anamaria. Barbossa insisted she be present as Morgan made his wish. Also in the boat were Bert, McMutton, Jericho, Jukes, Mullins, Sheikh Abu and Cob … and Ruby as well. She insisted with an indefatigable whine and finally Morgan agreed, if at most, to shut her up.

They reached the black beach with an angry escort of Lyandize who repeatedly almost succeeded in capsizing the boat. Before the Lyandize could climb ashore to molest them, their party disappeared into the jungle.

They started the long walk to the caves and Barbossa grinned. "I can feel it … people are going to die today."

Morgan sent him a look. "I hope that's because you're going to go on a killing spree of Sparrow's men."

Barbossa shrugged. "Sorry. My intuition isn't that specific."

Anamaria was frowning. She kept trying to leave the expedition and run into the jungle. Morgan finally had to tie her wrist to Cob's, much to the hypochondriac's distress.

"I don't know why you're tryin' to run off, or even how, but I don't think it's funny. You keep this up and I'll find a way to trap your soul in something depressing. Like a bagel, or something."

…

The girls reached the Cannibal village at about noon. Chelsea, being the one in charge of the ingredients, brought them to the septum pierced guy. He nodded and called for each ingredient in turn. He put the scale into a stone basin filled with … water? Who knew … then he asked for the blood and Scarlette held her arm out. He pulled a bone knife from somewhere and cut her arm. She let the drops fall into the basin until he pushed her arm away. Applying pressure to the wound, she gritted her teeth.

The staff went in to the mix next. The potion was hissing now, great bubbles popping at its surface. Chelsea handed over a small bag which held the carefully ground bone, the onyx lie … and then the mermaid's hair … Kami gulped, knowing what was supposed to come next.

But the man just stirred the concoction and spoke clearly in his native tongue. As the potion glowed a vibrant purple color, the group drew closer. Suddenly, there was a pop … and the light in the basin went out. The man guffawed and pulled something out of the pot.

It looked like one of those hinged wood snakes … the scale was the head, the staff, a piece of it, anyway, the tail. There were red … stones for the eyes and the body looked to be made of black splinters. It was all held together by a purple thread that also protruded from the mouth.

"Is gris-gris," the man spoke, handing it to Chelsea. "Take to cave, give to God. Perform death. Get wish. God free. _Akyah!_"

Scarlette smirked at that. "I sure hope those merfolk have had enough time to counter that thing when it gets set free." Before she could explain what she meant, the village erupted in sound. A dozen or so uniformed naval officers had burst into the village, bent on finding the party from _the Pearl_, not knowing that the cannibals would turn violent at the sight of men. Spears and arrows bombarded the officers before they even had time to think. A few discharged their rifles before going down. The girls fled the village, heading towards the caves.

Above their heads, an unearthly screech had them all ducking. The dragons were flying en masse over the island, swooping for fish or the occasional monkey.

"I can't wait to get out of here," Kami shouted. "Dragons, zombies, mermaids, cannibals, pirates … good lord! I think when I get home, I'll write a book!"

…

Norrington had not gone to the village to head them off, knowing that the cannibals didn't like men. Instead, he went to the cave to attempt to thwart them there, if they got past his men at the village. What he did not expect to find there was the other party, from _The Necromancer_. His men were cut down and he was subdued and tied quickly.

Barbossa stepped to the fore. "Well, hello, Commodore. I don't believe we actually ever met face ta face … Name's Cap'n Barbossa. I'd be surprised if ye hadn't heard of me by now."

"I heard you were killed ten years ago, by the Sparrows," Norrington spoke, not allowing his voice to shake. He'd never been captured by pirates before.

"Aye, that I was … they've managed to kill me twice. Nay … maybe three times. Almost."

Norrington frowned. "How is it you continue to come back to life? Demon?"

Barbossa chuckled. "Something like that. Now we've already been up the mountain and that cave entrance is blocked off. How do we get in?"

…

Jack, Will, Topher, Gibbs, Bootstrap, Pintel, Ragetti, Sean, and Tony all trudged through the jungle towards the cave. Upon emerging there, they stood face to face with Morgan's party. Jack and Barbossa locked eyes and Jack restrained the urge to shiver.

Barbossa laughed outright, as if he knew. "Well, Captain Jack Sparrow, if it ain't you? And where be yer little wench, eh? The women stayed behind, did they?

"Where they are is none of your business," Will exclaimed, brandishing his sword. Topher pulled out two pistols and aimed them both in an unconcerned but intimidating way.

Sean laughed. "Yeah, man. You don't wanna mess with these guys … especially concerning their women. After all, we wouldn't be out on this rock if that bastard hadn't kidnapped the wives."

Barbossa, still chuckling, spoke clearly. "Aye … women have quite the hook in a man's defense. For instance," he yanked Anamaria into sight, making her stumble slightly.

Gibbs immediately up in arms, cried out. "Don' hurt her, ya barnacle! Let her go!"

"Hey, I thought I was running this show!" Morgan called out indignantly. "And I don't want you pissing them off any more than necessary! Stop tormenting them!"

"Ya don't know who yer toyin' with, boy," Barbossa growled. "Scarlette has all the power, maybe more, that you've got ... she just don't have your skill or trainin' … An' if ye keep yankin' me chain, I'll be switchin' sides faster'n you can blink. Course it'd be strange, fightin' with the Sparrows, concernin' our history."

Pintel and Ragetti were looking from party to party, confused as a couple of cows at a crosswalk. Jack gave them a stern look and they stayed to _the Pearl_'s party. Barbossa had ignored them completely.

"Ah, yes. Truly, tis an odd thought. To fight alongside the Sparrows. I'm just not sure if I could stomach it."

"What makes you think we'd take you to our side?" Scarlette announced as she and the other women entered the area. "Let's get this over with. Everyone into the cave. I've got the charm."

"It's not so easy," Gibbs muttered. "Traps again. May the Lord keep us safe."

…

Barbossa was careful to make Sparrow go first into the mess. They all climbed up the bamboo ladder and into the first, or last, chamber of traps. It was a series of stepping stones over dark water. Jack, forced to go before anyone else, pulled out his sword and tested the stones before stepping on them.

When he had made it safely across, Morgan followed, and so forth. Most of the party made it across, pressing onto the small platform at the other side. One of the remaining naval officers however had not been paying attention and misplaced his feet. He didn't slip, no. It was not that simple. He stepped on one of the stones that were rigged to give way under weight.

He fell off the rock and screamed in surprise but all that happened for a moment was his pants soaking up the water. He stood about hip deep in the dark water and nervously giggled.

"Get out of the water," Claudia called bluntly, but a tad eagerly. The water rippled and all at once, it was alive in what looked like a rolling boil. The man began to scream whole-heartedly now. He was being eaten alive by sharp-toothed fish below the surface. He finally fell, face first into the water and thrashed. At least the screaming stopped. Gibbs had a terrified look on his face.

"There ye are, gents," Barbossa growled, tightening his grip on the back of Scarlette's neck. "Pay attention and follow Sparrow, or ye might end up like that poor naval bloke. Off we go."

…

The next few hours were pure torture. A few people got wounded but no one else was lost until they came to a particularly nasty corridor. Jack stopped suddenly and held his arms out to stop everyone else. The corridor was filled with dead bodies. A lot of them had naval uniforms, presumably from the last trip through.

The floor was painted dark with blood. None of the bodies scattered about had heads and only some of the heads were present. It was a seemingly harmless corridor, except for the bodies. Jack looked back at his enemies, his eyes skipping over Morgan to settle on Barbossa. Morgan may have raised him from the grave, but the necromancer was not in charge here. "The switch to disable this trap is on the other side of the corridor. You are the only one who can reach it with any surety."

Barbossa looked at him side ways. "Eh?"

"You just need to scurry on down there, hit a switch and disable the trap. It will close this door here, but open the one to the next chamber."

"All right Sparrow," Barbossa growled. "But I'll be taking this one," he pulled Scarlette over, hand placed solidly on the back of her neck. "Along as insurance."

Jack didn't move, save for his eyes. They looked to Scarlette and he blinked. She was frozen, holding her breath. What was about to happen?

Jack moved aside. "All right then, Barbie. The switch is next to the door."

Barbossa sneered and limped up the corridor, dragging Scarlette along. Her back was slightly bowed due to the strain and Jack smirked.

They had gone about halfway down the corridor when a sharp click sound rang throughout the walls. Scarlette looked up in alarm and suddenly, Barbossa's head was not on his shoulders. Scarlette looked over and shrieked. His head was rolling around and talking while he did it.

"Very funny, Sparrow. I bet you were hoping you'd kill me this way, eh? Well, now." His body picked up the struggling head and placed it back on the shoulders with a squish noise. "Counting on your wife being too short to get nipped by the wire?"

"Yep, pretty much," Jack muttered from the group. Barbossa grinned wickedly.

"Well, then. I suppose you wouldn't mind her going forth and hitting the switch for us, hmm?"

Jack was careful to keep his face blank but Barbossa knew by that reaction alone that the wire was not the only trap between there and the switch. He turned to Scarlette, who was still hunched slightly and staring with wide green eyes.

"Off you go, lass," he motioned. "Go on and hit that switch. If your husband so much as whispers directions to you, I'll shoot him, understand?" She met his eyes and nodded, allowing him to see just how much she'd enjoy killing him in her face. She turned slowly and tried to feel the air, as if she could discern traps by the currents.

She settled for looking at clues left by the others' … bodies. The ground before her was clear and she saw in the wall where the beheading wire began. Once she was past it, she looked at the new set of clues. The floor, besides being covered in blood and bodies, was littered with holes, most the size of American dimes or smaller. She looked carefully as she could at the bodies here. They had all been perforated by something … in several places, too. A rock flew by, kicked by her foot. It ran across two or three feet of the holey ground and following its path in tile shaped clusters, four-foot long spikes shot out. She looked back at the group below and gave them an incredulous look.

Facing the trap once again, she noticed that the switch was across from her, on the wall. The spike tiles were wall to wall from her feet to the switch and door. The door itself was just bamboo bars, caging the exit. She calculated that it was about five feet to the door. Backing up just a tad, she ran and took a flying leap. The spikes sprang up, following her path of movement, even without her touching the floor. She landed in the doorway and climbed up the door, pushing her body into the frame. The spikes below her missed by centimeters. She smacked the switch on the wall and the spikes vanished with a 'shling' sound. She cautiously put a foot down on the tile and when the spikes did not rush to meet her, she breathed a sigh of precious relief.

She let go of the door and it opened without her weight to keep it closed. Everyone trooped upwards and Barbossa pulled her back again, kicking Jack back into the front. They weren't out of this place yet. They weren't even _into_ all of it.

They continued onward, losing the rest of the naval officers, save for Norrington, mostly to their own inability to pay attention to what the person in front of them had done. There was no real panic until they got to the second to last trap. They entered the room, most of them exhausted, some in tears, and some wounded, though, once again, none too seriously … except for those who were dead.

The floor wasn't completely red, but it wasn't a far cry away from it. The bodies that were present were either nailed to the ceiling somehow, or were ripped to shreds and in pieces on the crimson floor.

"Wow." Sean commented. Sheikh Abu smacked him on the head and Sean didn't talk after that. Scarlette was not so inclined to give in, however.

"How do we get past this?"

"If I may," Jack hefted a scarred coconut that had been there when they'd come through the first time. He rolled it forward, across the floor. It bounced here and there over body parts strewn about but made it to the other side. That in itself was shocking, but not so shocking as the spears that had erupted from the floor. Once the delicate looking spear tips had cleared the floor, they expanded into several spears. Some of them were missing spear arms, which explained why some of the dead still hung in the air.

"How do we get through all this?" Pintel asked, clutching the arm of his friend.

"Actually," Jack turned to Morgan. "I was hoping you could handle this one. Animate those corpses … or what's left of them. If you can keep them moving long enough, these traps will stay sprung and none of us will get torn to bloody bits."

Morgan nodded and put out his hands. He brought up a dagger and sliced his arm open, allowing his blood to well up, dark and wet. He scraped it up with the knife and flung it outwards, hitting some of the bodies. The taste of power was suddenly thick in the room. Morgan sheathed his knife and smiled.

"Rise, men. Rise, those who died in this room, and come to my call. I call you to life for a time to help us succeed in what you did not!" The men in the ceiling woke first, dead eyes opening. They pulled the spear arms from their bodies and fell to the ground, only to be caught in the trap again. The disembodied pieces on the floor pulled together and a total of four zombies tried to walk towards Morgan. Jack strode through the mess and motioned for the others to follow. Most ran quickly through the traps, not waiting to get zombie parts rained on them.

There was not enough room on the other side for everyone to stand, however. Just as Morgan was coming towards the lot, one of his zombies nearest the group fell from the ceiling and cleared the trap's pressure plate. Jukes, however, did not. He screamed violently as the spear shot up through him and expanded. He had worn a red shirt and so it did not look quite as gory as it may have, but he was not nailed to the ceiling. The spear tore him apart, and the others were close enough that his blood covered a few of them.

Jack looked grim. He had avoided most of the blood but he watched as Chelsea started breathing heavily. She was almost completely covered in it and her blue eyes were very wide. She gripped Tony's arm in an iron vice, not letting go for fear of insanity. He ripped his shirtsleeve and mopped up her face as best he could. She seemed a little calmer after that.

"One more, ladies and gents," Jack announced.

…

Norrington didn't know whether to be happy or quietly enraged as the two parties filed into the cave. The saw trap had claimed no one and had been conquered fairly easily. Now all that was left was the charm … and the death.

Though the area was small, they all managed to fit inside. The 'god' was silent and dark and Morgan immediately knew what it was.

"This is death magic!" he spoke excitedly. "Some heavy duty necromancy went into holding that there. This is dangerous … you realize that if this is done correctly … that thing will be free … and we're all in the way of the exits … It's bound to be hungry after so many years in this cave."

Scarlette smirked. "Good thing it prefers sea food."

"What?" Morgan asked her, an eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Let's get started. How do we wake this thing up?"

Jack cringed and stuck his thumb with a knife, spreading the blood across the mouth of the idol. It woke up faster this time, the eyes lighting up and smoke rising from the open jaws.

"_Well, hello there_. Early, you are. I hope you didn't just wake me up to beg for your lives. I had a group of explorers do that once … cried a whole bucket full … Had to kill them in the end … I hate to eat after a sad story."

Jack smirked a bit and tried not to laugh. "We've brought the uh … what did you call it …"

Chelsea took over. "We've made the gris-gris and were told to come here and perform the … uh … sacrifice."

"Ah, yes," the idol grinned toothily. "And who will be dying today?"

Kami cleared her throat nervously. "I have … volunteered, sir."

"Lovely! This may be a good day, yet? Well, my dear. Place the charm on my left wrist and … just make sure you get the blood of your death on the charm … a slit throat is always fun." Sean and Tony started laughing aloud at that one, as everyone else's faces turned grey. Kami took out a knife and shook as she fastened the little dragon charm to the wrist of the idol.

Looking at everyone, she shivered audibly. "I was never one for suicide … I'll make a cut, but can someone just shoot me? No! Not you!" She looked quite frantic as Barbossa pulled out a pistol. Heather took a step forward.

"I'll do it." she took a pistol from Topher and checked to make sure it was loaded out of habit. Then she leveled it at Kami's chest.

"How good a shot are you, girlie?" Barbossa asked, grinning eerily. Heather turned abruptly and took a shot at him, knocking the hat off his head without so much as a second's aim.

"I don't know? What do you think?" she asked him coldly. The look on her face was _not _one of amusement.

Robin laughed quickly. "I think that was probably the best answer to a question he's gotten in a long time."

Heather had exchanged weapons and Topher was busy reloading the one with which she'd … demonstrated. She shivered and took her duty back up again.

"Okay," Heather took a deep breath and made eye contact with Kami. "Just give me the say so and I'll shoot."

Kami turned and looked into the glowing eyes of the idol and spoke to it. "You'll have to use your imagination on this one, sir. We're a good lot and you're about to be set free." She cut her wrist so violently that the knife dropped from her hand and bounced in the field of bones at the base of the cave wall. Her blood ran quickly over the charm and she felt dizzy, rather from shock than blood loss.

"Shoot … before I have a panic att—" BOOM! Kami felt the shock of the blast and vaguely saw her blood painted on the wall in front of her, coating the skeleton in red … she felt no pain, but rather a faint disconnection. She fumbled for the gold chain at her neck, finally gripping it firmly in her numb fingers. "There's no place like home … eh kids?" And with that, she vanished.

Morgan was coughing violently and as the good guys noticed with a relish … his wounds had not healed when Kami disappeared. Topher and Gibbs dragged the coughing necromancer and pushed him to the feet of the idol, who was laughing as well.

"Use my imagination indeed … well, strangely, this meets the criteria … and I feel strength already returning to my ancient bones." The chains in the wall snapped and the skeleton stood, stretching to its full height of about nine feet. "Freedom tastes … a little musty, to be perfectly honest … of course, that could just be the cave air. Now, where was I … ah, yes, to finish this one off," it picked up Morgan almost gently and tore out his throat with its sharp teeth. Everyone was in shock as the necromancer died suddenly.

Anamaria was suddenly beside Gibbs and urging them into action. "Leave the cave! Something is happening! Hurry, we must get out of here!" The door to the trapped way shut and the portcullis to the free entrance opened back up.

The idol was cackling! "You'll find your treasure after you make your wish … what would you have of me?"

Barbossa was suddenly there, grabbing not Scarlette, but Jack. "I want my wish … make it, wench, or he gets it." There was no weapon in sight, but Barbossa had survived a beheading. Nothing anyone here could do would kill him.

"Make your wish? I could just wish for your death … and you wouldn't have anything on me. Let him go and crawl back into your grave, bastard." Scarlette was not amused. The idol was looking at her in a most interested way.

"You are the one who donated the blood to make the charm … the necromancer … like the one I just imbibed. You have the mark … bitten by one of us, it seems. How are you not dead?"

"Magic," she answered, rather annoyed that it would take such interest as she was trying to think.

Barbossa growled and Jack made a face, right in the way of the former … everything's foul breath. "I want to be alive again, but not just any life. I want eternal life … I want to be able to taste and feel and not be killed … and I want the kind of power I had as a vampire and power over the dead, like you've got… yeah. Make that wish, Sparrow. Hurry, or your husband gets skewered."

Scarlette smirked. "Fine. I'll make your wish. Sure, make him immortal. He'll _live_ forever … and have his old vampiric strength and be able to taste as if he as infused with MSG … and he can feel ... feel more than ever … and necromancy powers. You got that?"

"It is done …" the idol looked at her and spoke suddenly in a different language to her. She smiled and nodded.

"Well, then," she said perkily, expecting a flash or something. "That was anti-climactic. We'll just be going now. If you'll let my husband go …"

"Not so fast, missy," Barbossa growled. "Anamaria! Do a back flip!"

Anamaria, somehow, in the yards of fabric she wore, managed to do a back flip. Scarlette looked annoyed. "What are you doing?"

"Testing the wish," Barbossa growled. "And I'll be taking him with me, for insurance that you didn't play any tricks on me … You'll just have to come and get him, missy."

Just then, a chilling scream ripped through the air and the cave turned icy cold, the ground shaking.

"Hahahaha! Now, I'll get my revenge!" Diana seeped from the wall and flew quickly towards the only naval officer in the party still alive. Norrington, hands tied behind him, issued the coldest scream ever heard by man's ears as the pirates rushed away from him so as not to get in the way of the vengeful ghost.

The commodore sagged, torn and bloody, ripped by claws no human possessed, his wig discarded and stained red beside his limp form. He was dead … messily, at that.

Elizabeth cried out and Will hid her face … Robin looked a little green. Commodore Norrington was dead … somehow that didn't seem to fit … how could he be dead?

Barbossa only laughed as everyone herded from the cave. The ground was shaking terribly and the dragons had all taken flight again. There was a dark plume of smoke rising quickly from the peak of the mountain … and if the earthquakes were any sign, there was about to be an eruption.

Jack, still attempting to free himself from Barbossa's now unbreakable grasp, shouted to his crew to get to _the Pearl_. Barbossa looked at _The Necromancer_'s crew. "All right gents. Back to the ship. I'll be your captain, now."

"But sir," Ruby purred. "Second in line to be Captain is Bert—"

"Not anymore," Barbossa announced loudly, nearly strangling Jack.

"Watch what you're doin' there, mate," Jack croaked out. Barbossa ignored him.

"If ye oppose me, I'll kill ya. And then you'll really be shot, because you'll have to listen to me _without_ a choice."

As everyone was running for the shore, the idol snatched up Scarlette much to her indignation.

"You, little pirate girl … have some power coming to you," it spoke, bearing her over the tops of the trees. "You want the treasure?"

"It seems sort of pointless now, but can we get it before volcano goes off? And … you're not going to kill me are you?"

"No," it smoked. "I do not kill the one who completes the charm. Nor will I kill anyone connected with that person."

"Okay … Then where are we going?"

"Here." They dropped into a dark hole in the ground. Scarlette screamed loud enough to echo around the island, making Gibbs turn back and look around.

…

Everyone was on either one ship or the other, none of the navy expedition coming back. _The Dauntless _was informed by _the Pearl _that the Commodore had been killed on the island and that _the Pearl _was going to help _The Dauntless _if in return it helped them.

Scarlette had been born off by the monster, and Jack was in the possession of Barbossa … again. _The Dauntless_, not wanting to believe, did so when _The Necromancer _opened fire on both them and _the_ _Pearl _… the idol long gone from the bow. Now that it was free, given Morgan's death, the figurehead had gone to do what monsters of that ilk did best … hide.

_The Pearl _took off westward, _The Dauntless_, under Gillette's command, following quickly. _The Necromancer _hung out in the bay for awhile, perhaps getting used to the new rule. What was _really _happening on board _The Necromancer_, was quite interesting. Little bone spiders were escaping from the bowels of the ship, vacating the vessel under the new command. That, and Jack had escaped and was running around unhampered, shouting in alarm every time one of the spiders jumped up from the wood. He was finally caught and put in the brig.

…

Meanwhile, back on the island … Scarlette woke up to the horrible sound of the earth all but breaking apart. The thing held her and would not let go even after she tried ordering it.

"I am not bound anymore, girl. Your words mean nothing to me."

"Let me go! What are we doing here? I need to get to the ship!"

"No … we are waiting." Suddenly, a sound so loud that rock broke from the shock erupted from somewhere above them.

"The volcano! Shit! Get us out of here!"

"We are safe here. We must wait until it calms and the dragons have gone back to perch."

"That could take days!"

"It will not."

They sat in the dark and two hours later, the noises stopped, the ground stilled, and the deity turned to look at her with its glowing eyes.

"The ships have all left by now."

"What?" Scarlette cried. "You mean I'm stuck on this island?"

"No, not exactly," it answered. "There is a ship that you can take … you will see. But first, I give you this." It put one bony finger to her forehead and pushed, not with force, but with power. The hairs all over her body stood straight as a chill filled her very bones.

"There. You will soon find out what my gift is, and now, I shall show you the treasure." It seized her again and soon they were out of the dark space and into the bright scene of the island. Half of the island was separated by a thick ribbon of orange, the lava cleaving the island practically in two.

"Wow …" Scarlette amassed. Thick smoke billowed from the mount and a thick grey snow was falling, pumice, ash. The skeleton took her to the beach where the lava was running into the ocean, making steam rise in a thick line.

"If you follow the line of hardening lava, you will find your treasure."

"Uh," Scarlette looked uneasily out to sea. "I'm not the greatest swimmer … and I can't breathe under water."

"Yes, but they can … and they have ways of helping you," the skeleton pointed out to where the Lyandize were bobbing in the surf, looked apprehensively at the monster that stood beside her.

The idol seemed to draw in breath and shouted out to the merfolk in a language Scarlette couldn't understand. They started swimming in.

It turned to her and grinned. "You understood what I told you earlier, in the cave. I said it in French, hoping at least that someone would understand. It was a language most non-pirates spoke when coming to seek the treasure."

"Yes, you told me I'd left enough loopholes to get rid of Barbossa."

"Indeed," it nodded, a rather ordinary gesture for such a creature. "He can feel more pain than he may be able to bear … and taste, of course … I was not sure what MSG was but the wish took and now his taste buds are extremely sensitive … too much, almost. And yes, you were careful not to cover the aging part, I assume. He will continue to age and even rot … as you did not restore his life. He is still a zombie … and a very much enhanced one, but all things will end … in some way or another. Eventually, he will be nothing but scraps of skin attached to bone, but still alive. You must know, that because he has taken your husband hostage in case anything goes wrong … you only have a limited amount of time to rescue him before Barbossa becomes impatient."

"Yes … but how am I supposed to rescue him? Fly out of here?"

"Well, the dragons are marvelous transportation, if you can mange it," the idol laughed, a creepy rattling sound. "But you will find that transportation will not be too much of a problem. I must leave now, lest my would be captors decide to hinge me to some other object. If you need help … a simple spell will call me … it is in that book. Adieu." And it vanished in a cloud of black sand, causing her to cover her eyes.

Dacor was there smiling, standing unsteadily on two muscular legs, having just changed from his sea worthy body. "Why hello there, Miss. We meet again. And the spell is broken?"

"Yes," she answered a bit drearily. "And now I'm pretty much screwed."

"Well, would you like to see the treasure now?"

…

Bootstrap had taken to captaining _the Pearl_. Anamaria was on board, still a zombie, but she'd found her old clothing and changed from the golden dress. Gibbs was having a very hard time not … exploding with confusion. He was immensely happy that she was back on board … but his mixed feelings over her … status concerning life made him shy to speak. She was acting as if nothing had happened at all.

The two making the most noise on board, however, were Robin and Lizzy. Lizzy, always true to Ryoko, never wanting to leave her unrescued from the moment they had been sucked back in time to this point, was arguing with Will Turner of all people that they should go back. Will was flat out refusing the idea and couldn't come up with a good enough reason why except that Elizabeth was terrified of the island. She had gotten some of the worst blood splatter when Jukes had been ripped apart and had a front row seat for Norrington's death as well.

Lizzy was irate. "Come on! What would Jack do?"

"Get us all killed," Will answered tartly. "He's trapped with Barbossa and Scarlette is somewhere on that island, probably dead for all we know, in the clutches of that _thing_. We can't risk going back or we risk everyone. She would understand, and so would Jack!"

"I don't care!" Lizzy exclaimed, her face tinged with a pink flush. "And I don't care about the pirate's code! She would save me if I were stranded … it might take her a while to get there ... but she'd come for me."

Robin, on the other hand, was pacing and breaking things. She turned every now and then to snap at someone, usually along the lines of, "Fucking zombies" or "killer ghosts" or something of that ilk. She had been very shaken by the image of her long lost … not so much friend tearing at Norrington's body. Diana and Robin had not been close. In fact, they hadn't hated each other but the feelings were much less than friendly, and where Robin didn't 'like' Norrington … they had been friends, of sorts.

Eventually Robin and Lizzy joined voices and proclaimed that _the Pearl _should at least wait in the cove until the lava cooled enough to explore the possibility of survivors.

"We can't do that either, ladies," Bootstrap announced after speaking with Anamaria. "We don't have enough supplies. We'll have to just go to Tortuga and stock back up … after that, we can come back and see what developments there have been. Scarlette, if she is alive, is smart enough to survive. She'll probably end up living with the cannibals and hopefully, she watches what she eats. I think the more pressing matter is getting our illustrious captain back. I don't think he has a lot of time, to be honest. So, we'll follow _The Necromancer _into port and see what we can do."

"And let's not forget the children in Tortuga," Robin pointed out, still angry.

"Ah … they'll be safer there than anywhere else," Bootstrap answered. "We can't have them on the ship with us … they make terribly good hostages, and they don't know how to stay out of trouble."

…

Jack was sitting in the brig, bilge water sloshing around, luckily not near him. Ruby was sitting just outside the prison, flaunting herself to see if she could get a reaction. Jack was not looking at her and really wanted the ship to lurch so she would fall over and maybe hit her head on something.

Suddenly, there were footsteps above, descending into the bilge. Ruby stood abruptly as the person's shadow fell over her.

"Well … I'd say you've made quite the improvements," she grinned. "Too bad your blood doesn't run."

"Indeed," said a chillingly familiar voice. "Leave. I want a word with Sparrow and I don't need an audience."

"Whatever you want," she slinked away, letting the shadow alone with Jack. The man dragged over a bench and sat just out of Jack's line of sight, in the dark shadows.

"I suppose you think what happened was funny, Sparrow?"

"Funny?" Jack sounded a bit incredulous. "Yes, absolutely hilarious. I'm in me worst enemy's hands, I have no idea where my crew is, and my wife was taken away by a monster that spent the last however many hundreds of years in a cave on a volcanic island, eating people. For the last hour, I've been poked and prodded by the chunky priss wench from hell and you want to know if I think it's all funny? Has being dead addled your sense of humor as much as it's changed your sense of style?"

And Norrington, newly dead and wigless, leaned into the light and smiled eerily. "Funny, how the circumstances are flipped, eh Sparrow?"

…

Spiffy. Well, ladies and gents, this was the last chapter completed _before_ the release of Dead Man's Chest. Honestly … there are some interesting coincidences, but I assure you, anything that happened in this fic that was a major point (not the little references that were put in later) up to this point was not because of the new movie. I _hope_ to have this fic out before PotC 3 … but I can't guarantee anything. Okay, now for a page count. 287. Whoop! (Of course, revisited … I did add a few connectors.)


	12. Chapter XI: Into the Abyss

Greetings. This is the first chapter _ever_ begun in the year of 2007. This is post DMC but pre AWE.

**PART II : THE DEVIL'S CONTRACT**

**Chapter XI –Into the Abyss**

Scarlette sat on the beach, not a happy little pirate. The sun beat down on the black sand and she continued to sit, watching the lava run in the trough it had dug for itself. There was still a large amount of nearly tangible heat coming off the glowing liquid and even from yards away, she could feel it like a caressing breath of fire. She had not been sitting long when there was a cool wind at her back.

Normally in the Caribbean, small breezes were not suspect … but there was something about the timbre of this particular wind that Scarlette did not like. She turned to look behind her and was most disturbed to see an almost solid looking Morgan standing behind her. He smiled.

She shot to her feet, pulling her sword out and pointing at Morgan. He didn't move at all but continued to smile, giving her sad eyes.

"You're dead." She stated, very precisely. "I watched you die. It wasn't pretty."

"Yes, Scarlette," he answered. "I am most surely dead. Perhaps that is why I am here."

She looked more closely at him. His flesh was transparent and ghostly. "You're not a zombie."

"No. But I come to your call nonetheless."

"I didn't call you."

"Your power did. You're lucky. I could never call ghosts. I didn't know it was possible."

"I've never done it … maybe this is what he meant …" she trailed off, hand to her throat. "The demi-god told me he was giving me a gift … perhaps this is it." She looked up, a perk in her eye. "Does this mean I can control you?"

Morgan sighed. "I suppose." He met her eyes, suddenly more serious. "Why did you kill me, Scarlette? I was just beginning to like you."

"You were threatening the lives of people I loved, not to mention mine."

"I could have liked you, Scarlette. Under different circumstances, I might have loved you." Morgan sighed again and sat on the sand. His body did not cause the sand to indent. Scarlette sheathed her weapon and sat as well. He continued. "That is what that woman meant. She could see it, and warned me against it, even if she was cryptic."

"I'm sorry, Morgan," she answered truthfully. "I'm even sorrier now that you think you have to obey me. But I need your help. I need to get off this island and I don't know how to do that."

"They do," he pointed at the waiting Lyandize. Dacor and Raare strode up to her, as if on cue and sat near the ghost, their shining skin melting back into human flesh.

She turned to give the men her undivided gaze. "Well? Both the ghost and the demi-god have told me that you can get me off this island. How?"

Dacor and Raare traded glances and Dacor spoke to her before looking away. "There is only one real way to get off this island, and that is to retrieve the treasure. The treasure at the end of the _Langue de Serpente_ used to be above ground and easily reached once the volcano erupted, but due to the earthquakes about here, the treasure and the hold it rests within have sunk to the bottom of the sea."

"Then I can't get to it." Scarlette sounded defeated, her temper not rising to the bait. "I'm stuck here. Barbossa will be free to do what he wants once he gets rid of Jack and the others … I'll be running around, dodging cannibals and dragons … and ghosts." She gave an indiscreet look at Morgan, who looked forlornly out to sea.

"There is a way …" Dacor began. Raare cuffed him and they tousled for a moment.

"Not that," Raare spoke, throwing Dacor's arm away from him. "We promised we would lead no other in that direction. She is better off trapped here."

"What are you two talking about?" she asked angrily. "What way?"

"We could always make her one of us," Raare was still arguing. "That would be preferable to … the alternative."

"What bloody alternative are you spouting about? Damn!" Scarlette was getting louder.

"He may agree without strings attached," Dacor growled, finally looking at Scarlette. "She is a woman. An _attractive _woman."

"I do not know what is going on," Scarlette spoke carefully, getting to her feet in the process. "But please understand that I would do anything to get back to the people I care for, whether it is to find them safe or to find them in need of rescue. I _must_ get off this island."

Raare looked at her, his black eyes unmoving. "Fine. If they mean the world to you, then you will not mind trading the world for them."

Morgan had remained silent throughout this exchange but his eyes held a weight to them. He knew something. It seemed they all did, save for Scarlette. "Is there something you guys aren't telling me? Anything I would have to give up would be a fair price, if only I could save him in time."

"All will be answered soon." Dacor told her. He stood and Raare stood with him. They both offered their hands down to her. She considered them for a moment and grasped their smooth palms, lifting herself to her feet.

"Where are you going?" Morgan asked. Scarlette shrugged. Dacor looked back at him and pointed out to sea.

"Out there is our destination. We will protect her and make sure she comes to no harm … not that _you_ should be concerned." He turned back to Scarlette. "You will be able to breathe while you are touching one of us, so don't let go of my hand or his. We can protect you as long as you do not forfeit your own safe conduct."

Scarlette stepped into the waves and looked up at the Lyandize chieftain. "What does that mean?"

Raare grabbed her hand firmly and she turned to him. He was looking out to sea, a rather startled look on his tired face. "There are things below the surface that cannot hurt you without your permission. Be wise, that you do not give it to them." Dacor seized her other hand and the two men began to wade into the water. The shelf ended more abruptly than Scarlette had been ready for and the water closed over her head in a shock of cold.

She had shut her eyes tightly against the water and when she opened them, they were already thirty feet below the surface. She held her breath for as long as possible, halfway not trusting the fish folk holding her hands. When she could bear it no longer, she took in a deep lungful of … something. It wasn't air but it didn't feel exactly like water. The taste of salt filled her senses.

The two Lyandize and she traveled for what seemed like a long time under the deep water. The light cut through the brine nicely, showing them clearly the path to the depths below. They followed the line of hardening magma until they came to a sunken ship. It's beaten and battered hull glowed in the light of the cooling lava.

It had once been a three masted ship and was covered in weeds, barnacles, and coral. There was rust on everything that even held a hint of metal. The light was very dim here and Scarlette could just make out the figurehead. It was a great serpent, a wyrm, really. There was not much left of the sails, but Scarlette could tell they had not been a European cut. This was an Asian ship, or had been however long ago it had gone into the sea.

The merfolk dragged her down to that ship and the three of them made their way through a large hole in the hull into what had once been a large cargo hold. There was treasure galore in here, but it wasn't much help to anyone without a ship that could sail. Scarlette was thinking very hard and trying to understand what the merfolk were showing her, but she could not fathom how she was to escape the island. An old shipwreck would not help her escape.

_This ship was grounded on a coral atoll before and earthquake swallowed up the coral,_ Dacor explained. _The sea claimed it years ago and it sank onto the treasure left behind by the sorcerer and his four disciples. The Captain who wrecked this ship swam from the islands, but did not get far before he was forced to concede to other methods of escape._

Dacor and Raare looked at her from their foreign faces. They looked wary and uncertain and their feelings were nearly projected onto her when a great tumult of sound echoed from somewhere outside the ship. Sound traveled faster underwater and Scarlette, kicking free of her Lyandize escort for a moment, rose through the hull to see what was happening. Raare immediately enveloped her in his arms as a rushing current of water rolled over them, sending the trio spinning.

Scarlette was shouting, but her words could not be conveyed underwater. She desperately wanted to know what was happening and why she couldn't see anything. The water calmed finally and Raare steadied her. Dacor came to her other side and they hovered for a moment. There was another ship resting on the bottom next to the first, only this one looked functional, for all its faults. It too was covered in growths, but the sails billowed with life and there seemed to be a crew moving around below.

Scarlette's eyes were wide and Dacor turned to her. She heard his voice in her head and rather than be alarmed, she was intrigued.

_We are going to take you down there, but be very careful. Play not lightly with devils, for they may play back. If we cannot gain help through asking only, we will find another way._

_There is no other way._ Raare whispered in her mind.

Scarlette did not fully understand this cryptic message but she nodded and the three of them moved forward and downward towards the ghostly masts. They cleared the rigging and lighted on the deck amidst shouts and calls. Scarlette could sense something odd about the ship. It was not like the rest of the ocean, in the sense that she could breathe while on the decks. The Lyandize had released her and floated not too far out of reach. Her feet, however, were firmly planted on the deck.

She took all this in dimly, for she was understandably distracted. She was most preoccupied with the crew and their outward appearance. They were as encrusted with life as their ship but most of them had taken on characteristics of sea creatures. One whose head seemed to be ensconced inside a conch shell reached out and combed rough fingers through her trailing hair. She pulled away and found she could speak.

"Don't touch me." The crew just laughed at her, their voices suitably corroded as well.

"What is the meaning of this, Lyandize?" asked a particularly fierce looking one. He had once had a human face, she was sure of it. His head was not shaped right anymore and he looked more like a hammerhead shark than a human. He looked at Dacor and she caught a glimpse of his back. There were several crustacean legs sticking out of his spine. They seemed to move independently.

_We do not answer to you, Maccus._ Dacor was still floating but he had his hands near the coral spear on his back. _Where is your captain?_

"And I do not answer to you, though I felt the call of _his_ creatures and brought us here," Maccus hissed at Dacor. Scarlette stepped between them and put a hand on the shark person's arm. He turned to her, showing his serrated teeth in a flat face. She did not flinch when he looked at her but tightened her grip on his arm.

"What do you think you are doing, woman?" he growled at her.

"You were a man once, weren't you?" she asked bluntly. Maccus froze, meeting her eyes. He wrenched his arm away from her and she let him.

"What do you want?" he asked, more of Scarlette than Dacor, though the Lyandize was the one who answered.

_We need to speak to your captain. It is very important and cannot wait._

"Koleniko!" Maccus called out. Another of the strange figures appeared. He once again had the body structure of a man but most of his face had been taken over by a puffer fish. His lips were purple in the dim light. "Go tell the Captain he has company." The puffer fish man left.

"Thank you," Scarlette told him with feeling. Maccus stepped up against her and only her stubborn pride kept her from moving away. He was trying to scare her, but she was not easily moved.

"You should save your thanks, girlie," he gripped her face and turned it so she was left to look at him sideways. "Nothing you could want will come freely from this ship." He released her and stepped back as a heart-wrenching thump sounded through the water and the wood of the ship.

"What was that?" she whispered to Raare. He looked on stonily and spoke, his mouth not moving.

_He comes._

Scarlette had been about to ask 'who', but another of the thumps ran echoing through everything. They came rhythmically, like an ancient heartbeat. The crew looked at her and laughed, a rough, abrasive sound.

"And who was it that finally managed to complete the complicated spells of the _Langue de Serpente_?" a voice called over the decks. Everyone turned to face the owner of the voice. Scarlette moved along the deck until she could see the speaker.

There, under the doorway of the cabin, stood an incredibly tall figure. At first Scarlette thought she was looking at a man with a long pale beard … but as her eyes focused, she could see that he was less man than any of the others on the deck. He spotted the two merfolk and limped forward.

Scarlette flinched as his pegged leg hit the deck. He had been the origin of the telltale heartbeat. She could clearly see him now. As far as she could tell, he had no nose and his eyes were deep set in a smooth face, surrounded by pale flesh that did not belong on anything that lived above ground or walked on two legs. His voluminous beard that had looked like great blond locks from far away was in reality a mass of tentacles, moving independently. He blinked wet beady eyes at the merfolk.

"Why have the Lyandize called my ship here?" he spoke to Dacor. "You understand that we are _not_ on your beck and call, do you not?" Scarlette could see that this … man … had what appeared to be human teeth in his mouth instead of an octopus' beak.

_Yes._ Dacor poured a scalding rage into just that word.

He snarled, sending the tentacles sliding across his chest. He wore a large round hat that came up in two points at the front and Scarlette could not see any weapons in sight, but she still felt a dangerous vibe from the figure before her.

"I hope you have not called us again to save someone without payment," the man spoke, almost as if he knew why they were there. "If you've demanded our presence here, you must have someone who is need of my services and later, I of theirs."

_No._ Raare spoke angrily. _We will leave. We will give you nothing._

"You serve me and will give me what I command of you," the man countered.

"Who are you?" Scarlette asked, tired of being looked over. She stepped forward, putting her closer to the tentacle-face person. The two mermen moved up to flank her, as if she had moved closer to danger. Perhaps she had. The man in front of her turned his cold beady eyes to her and looked her over rather as a cat looks at a bird.

"Is it not the custom on land to offer one's own name before demanding another's?" he asked of her, bending slightly, as if to see her better. He snorted as if he were sniffed the water in front of his face. Scarlette locked eyes with him.

"I suppose," she lifted her chin up a bit. "My name is Scarlette Sparrow."

A swift flurry of whispers traveled around the deck and the captain straightened up. Scarlette looked about nervously. For some reason, everyone on deck was looking at her with a much more vivid interest than before.

The captain began to laugh, a short guffaw with a beat of silence between laughs. "Sparrow." He spat the name as if it were an insult.

He began to circle around her. She wanted to turn with him to keep him in sight but pride forced her to hold her ground as he circled about. "And you don't know who I am. _Rubbish_. Well, you're early, that's for certain. I always knew he would send someone else. And one I cannot refuse, either." He stopped behind her shoulder and touched her floating hair with an odd look on his face. With a laugh, he turned and began limping away. Scarlette and her merfolk escort were both confused.

"Er … excuse me?" she scurried after the retreating form calling out all the while. "You never told me who you were! And what are you talking about, me being early?"

The man froze and turned, slowly. "You really don't know who I am, do you?"

"No," she answered, crossing her arms. "I think I would have remembered meeting someone as … charismatically challenged as yourself."

He stepped forward with his whole foot. "Don't get cheeky, Sparrow. I am Davy Jones, Captain of _The Flying Dutchman_, the ship you stand on now." He came in close again and this time, Scarlette did back up, bumping against Maccus. She gave a little gasp and froze, much to the crew's delight. "Are you not here because of Jack Sparrow?"

"What about him?" Scarlette answered, having a feeling that Jones was not talking about the fact that she needed to save her husband.

Jones smiled. "You really know nothing. Heh, heh. How curious. And what is your _relation _to that scoundrel Sparrow?"

She frowned. "I see nothing in this conversation that would give relevance to that information, Captain."

Everyone froze as Jones seemed to take in a deep breath. "I would start answerin' my questions, Sparrow, else my patience will wane. _Who are you to Jack Sparrow_?"

Scarlette looked to Dacor and he nodded, not coming any closer. He didn't want to be within reach of the squid-like captain. She turned back and met the eyes of Davy Jones. "I am his wife."

Jones blinked and began to laugh again. "Curious indeed. I'm sorry to hear that, Sparrow. Before long, you'll be a widow."

Scarlette's blood ran colder than the water surrounding her. "What do you mean?"

"Let me get one thing straight, first," Jones spoke, his eyes going to a curious eel that was snaking its way about his head. He reached up with his left … hand, a large crab claw, and snipped it in half, snapping up one of the ribbons like a piece of bacon. "Sparrow didn't send you here?" He chewed and Scarlette made a face.

"No. No one _sent _me here. I need to get away from these islands."

"And you came here to ask for what?"

"I'm not really sure," she answered truthfully. "Until a few moments ago, I was sure you did not exist. Debating that fact seems superfluous since here you stand. What exactly are we here for?" She asked the last of Dacor.

_He can raise that ship from the depths … if he will agree to do so, we will crew the ship for you._

"I will not perform any deeds without payment," Jones announced, laughing shortly. The crew laughed with him.

"I'll pay you," Scarlette told him. The two merfolk sucked in water as the laughter died. She looked over. They shook their head vehemently. "It can't be that expensive." Jones laughed again.

"What is so funny?" she was getting angry now. The captain calmed enough to meet her eyes, a faint smile on his lips.

"I do not deal in the currency you are used to, Sparrow. My coin is much more … personal."

Scarlette blanched. "Oh, ick."

Jones changed completely, anger showing obviously on his visage. "I'm not speaking of carnal favors, girl. You're the first woman aboard this ship in its entire existence and my men are true men."

"I'll bet they are," she muttered. He was not amused.

"Are you makin' fun of me, Sparrow?"

"Wouldn't dream of it mate."

Jones frowned and shook his head. "I demand payment for services rendered. You boast of money, but can you afford this particular expense?"

Her eyes widened and a thought formed in her head. "What did you mean by telling me I would soon be a widow?"

He straightened up and made a motion with his head, as if he were trying to rid his neck of a crick. "Almost twenty-three years ago, Jack Sparrow came to me with a bargain. His ship under the East India Trading Company, _The Pearl,_ had been sunk by a Company official for some infraction or other. He called me to the surface and struck a bargain with me. I would raise his precious ship from the depths. He would be the captain for thirteen years, and then he would join my crew. One hundred years before the mast, to crew aboard this ship. That was my price. I raised the ship from below and he renamed it _The Black Pearl_. He has two and a half months before his time is up."

Scarlette was frowning. "You said twenty-three years?"

"Yes," he gurgled. "It will be twenty-three in 78 days."

"Right," Scarlette's eyebrows tweaked at his precision. "So … if the deal was for thirteen years, what's keeping you from collecting? Not that I'm complaining, that is."

He smiled. "Whatever I am, I am fair. I never cheat men of their freedom, only their lives. There were ten years in between where his ship was taken by another."

"Barbossa," Scarlette growled. "I am going to kill him. Again. But you see my dilemma, right? I'm stuck here. I need that ship to be fit to sail, not to mention … be on the surface."

"You know my price," he answered softly. The devil never begs.

"But I don't want to _stay_ the captain," she haggled. "I just want to use it to rescue someone and join up with my friends."

Jones gave her a dangerous look. "Who is it you are wanting to rescue?"

"I don't think I should tell you," she put a hand up to ward off his response. "It's not that I want to be difficult. I just have a feeling I shouldn't share too much information with you unless you're actually going to help."

"Understandable," he grinned now. "You do comprehend that in a little more than two month's time I will be coming after your husband. He _will_ be part of my crew … or he'll be taken to the depths, to the Locker, the underwater purgatory of sailors never reaching their destinations."

Scarlette pondered. "Take me instead." Everyone reacted at that. The crewmen grinned and made catcalls. Jones lifted the ridge above his left eye in what must have been his equivalent of raising an eyebrow. The two merfolk started chattering at her, warning her not to move forward. She waved them off and continued. "Raise that ship for me so I can go off and rescue him and in two months and some change, I'll join your crew."

"So, it _is_ Jack Sparrow you're off to save," Jones pointed out her mistake. She sighed and met his eyes.

"Do we have a deal?" she asked cautiously.

"No," he answered precisely and she stomped her foot.

"Why not?" she exclaimed. "If anything, you stand to gain. He will _not_ just allow you to take him … but if I give my word … I'll do it."

He leaned forward. "I will gain nothing. I will have performed two favors and gained only one soul. Granted it is the soul of a woman, something this ship has never seen the likes of … but I still will not relent." He sniffed the air around her face and seemed to sense something there. "Sparrow is lucky to have a woman at all … let alone one that will sacrifice her soul for him."

Scarlette thought she saw a sadness on Jones' face for just a second, but it vanished as he turned to look at the dilapidated ship beside them.

"I will raise your ship, Mrs. Sparrow, but in thirteen years, you too will join my crew. _That _is my price, and I will not be moved."

"Fine, except for one thing," she called out. He turned to face her. Raare tried to pull her back and she threw him off.

_Do not do this, Scarlette!_ he warned. _There is no going back on an oath sworn here._

"Jack's safety comes before my own," she answered, ignoring the merman behind her. "He will not be happy if he learns of this bargain, but I will do it, if it will save him."

_Nothing you can do here will save your husband,_ Dacor added. _He has already told you that._

"That is why I make my second request," she answered. "Extend Jack's time to end at mine as well. Courage to go through with the deal will come with not being alone."

Davy Jones laughed again. She seemed to just be amusing the hell out of him. "I will give Sparrow no more time than he has had already. I won't take him alone, if I can help it. There is another that has yet to pay their debt to me besides Jack Sparrow."

Scarlette looked interested now, but apprehensive. The only way Jones could take both Jack and another to the depths would be for them to be on _the Pearl_. "Who is it? Gibbs? Armstrong?"

"I do not know these names. The one I seek has already spent his time above and has just recently rediscovered the pleasures of the sea. I saved him from the abyss many years ago. I could not take his soul then, and so I made a bargain. When what was guarding his mortality was finally lifted, I would come for him. But when that day came, he was beyond my reach. He has been careful to stay on or close to land for a very long time … but he sails now."

Scarlette took a few steps back. She whispered something under her breath and tripped over a line on the deck. Falling to her rump, she sat there for a moment.

"Bootstrap … Bill Turner … you're after him." She looked up and saw confirmation on Jones' face. "That's why he never came with us … why he looked so sad every time _the Pearl _left … and Jack knew. Jack knew all of this and never told me." She looked up and glared. She got to her feet, ignoring the hands of her Lyandize escort.

She stepped right up to Jones and met his eyes with a fierceness he could not ignore. "I want that ship on the surface and in sailing condition."

"And what of my price?" he asked again. She tilted up her chin and glared.

"Give me 78 days."

"What?" the crew rang out in muffled gasps and gossip. Many people had tried bargaining for _more _time but no one had ever asked for less. Jones stepped forward. This time Scarlette held her ground. Even as a curious tentacle reached out and touched her flowing hair, she stood there, fastidiously serious.

"You do understand what you are asking, nay, demanding?" he answered, giving her such unobstructed eye contact it was frightening. "In 78 days, I will accost you, whether you are on that ship, _the Pearl_, or land."

"No," she answered. "I had not believed in you until I saw you, but I have heard the stories. You cannot step on land. That is why Bootstrap was safe until now."

He laughed. "It is true, I cannot gain a foot on land, but once every ten years." he spread his arms and shook his head slightly. "It has been twelve years since I last set foot on land. If need be, I will come after you, wherever ye be."

"But how fast is this ship," Scarlette smiled. "I assumed you travel above water at times … are you fast enough to catch _the Pearl_?"

"There are ways of taking down ships without speed enough to catch them, Mrs. Sparrow."

"Yes," she answered, smiling now. "But having too many guns slows a ship. All the firepower in the world won't help you if you can't catch us."

"I wasn't speaking of cannonade, Mrs. Sparrow."

Now she was listening. "And what were you speaking of, Captain?"

He sneered, reaching out and touching her hair again with his right hand. They all seemed very enamored of her free flowing hair. "Have ye ever heard of the kraken, lass?"

"It's a mythological creature, based in Greek Mythology as a sea titan that was supposed to eat … somebody. Ariadne … Andromache … Andromeda … one of those … the last movie I saw portrayed it as a giant squid thing. That was 20,000 leagues under the sea, a completely different story … but that was a long time ago."

Davy Jones finally looked perplexed. "What is a movie?"

Scarlette blushed. "Nothing. Nothing at all. The Kraken doesn't exist."

Jones laughed louder than ever and the crew echoed him. "I have not had this much fun in a long time, Mrs. Sparrow. You have your deal. And it was Andromeda." He reached suddenly for her right hand, enveloping it in his. There was a large tentacle and a smaller one protruding over what was still a human hand and he wrapped these about her wrist. She blanched and tried to pull away, but he held her fast.

"In 78 days, I will come for all three of you. There's no need to count … you'll know when your time is up." He wrenched his hand away from hers. She shook it in the water and the little bits of squid slime that had clung to her skin floated away on the current. She looked at her palm and sucked in a deep breath.

"What is this?" There was a dark, pulsing thing on her palm. It sat there, firmly attached and moving, and then it slowly vanished into her skin, leaving no trace of itself. She flexed her hand and looked at the back of it, searching for some sign that the mark had been there.

"That, my alluring lass, is the black spot," Jones answered with a relish. "It will return when your time has been spent."

Scarlette wiped her palm on her leg discreetly and was suddenly tossed to the floor as _The Flying Dutchman _gave a lurch and shot upwards. The crew bent their legs expertly and _the Dutchman _broke the surface with a great sound of crashing water. Scarlette went sliding towards the edge and a tall crewman with a bony crest of orange coral covering his face grabbed her around the arm and hauled her to her feet.

"Don't die yet, little lady."

"Palafico, bring her here," Jones ordered. The orange crested man dragged her forward and she lost her footing again. He tried to pull her roughly to her feet again and she snapped.

"Let me the hell go!" she commanded in a forceful tone. He hesitated and dropped her arm. She stood on her own, brushing water away as it continued to cascade down from the masts. Jones raised another 'eyebrow' at Palafico's obedience to her.

"Well," she grunted. "That was exciting. Where is _my_ ship, sir?"

"Behind," Jones growled, his flesh much more yellow above water. Scarlette stepped to the side and looked astern. There was her ship. Its sails were a blue green and the wood was mended with the natural selection of coral and barnacles holding it together. It didn't look very seaworthy, but it was floating. Raare and Dacor were already scaling the hull.

"Pretty," she wrinkled her nose. She turned back to Jones. "Well, I would say it has been a pleasure but I'd rather not lie to you. Ta, gents."

"Sparrow," Jones followed a bit as she started for the stern's guard rail. "You cannot climb aboard that ship from the water."

"Oh?" she answered cheekily. "I'm already soaking wet. I think I'll live."

"That coral reef attached to its hull will shred you to pieces as the sea dashes you against it." He sounded so matter of fact that Scarlette frowned.

"Why do you care? Why are you telling me this?"

He smiled. "You belong to me, now. I tend to take care of things that are mine."

"I belong to no one, Jones," she snapped. "But since you were so kind to warn me, perhaps you'll lend me a rowboat and charge me even more."

He grinned and looked into the setting sun. Scarlette followed his eyes as the red disc fell below the horizon. How many hours had passed since she'd entered the sea? When the sun had vanished, Jones called out in a merry voice. "Maccus; Show Mrs. Sparrow how the crew travels."

Scarlette felt a rough hand on her neck and she flinched. Maccus dug his fingers into her skin and the world blurred. She felt a vague and distant sense of movement. The world stopped moving and she fell to the deck. This deck was not _the Dutchman_ however. She looked up and Maccus laughed cruelly at her confusion.

"What did you just do?" she asked angrily, standing on unsteady feet.

Maccus grabbed her by the throat and pulled her in close. "You'll learn in time, girlie. You'd better learn quick, too, 'cause once you're a part of the crew … there's no telling where on the ship you'll end up. Some aren't too particular on how they get theirs, you know. You might just be too much to resist." He started to pull her in closer to do god-knows-what and Scarlette had finally had enough.

She popped her hand up at about his elbow and freed her neck. Without missing a beat, she slammed the heel of her hand just below where his sternum would have been. The effect was very much the same as if he had still had all the normality of a man. As he doubled over, she kneed him in the face. His ultra sharp teeth tore the flesh of her leg and in a surprised moment of pain, she faltered. He rose up and slammed her bodily against the mast. He gripped her shoulders in his rough hands and lifted her, blood running from his face.

"This'll teach you to mess with me, Sparrow," he reared back with one arm as if to pommel her but he was pulled back roughly. Scarlette fell to the deck, just managing to keep her feet. She leaned against the mast and looked up. Dacor and Raare were being held by two crewman as Palafico and Hadras, the conch shell crewman held Maccus at bay. Jones limped up to his shark and frowned.

"You will leave her alone, Maccus," he snorted. "Understood?" The last word was like a slow shiver of sound, the vowels very long and menacing. Maccus nodded.

"Aye, cap'n." Maccus looked at her. "But once she's crew, she'll have us to contend with."

"I'll be the say on that when that day arrives," Jones spat. He looked at her and back to the men. "Back to the ship, men." Scarlette watched as the crew seemed to bleed through the air and appear back on the other ship. Jones remained and limped forward to where Scarlette was pressed to the mast. He looked at her with an indiscernible past in his eyes.

"Barbossa's a nasty piece of work for a lass like you to take on by yourself." He said all this in a way that made it sound as if he had something to offer.

"I'll manage just fine, thanks," she frowned, sliding along the mast to get further away from the oppressive force that was Davy Jones. He stabbed his claw into the wood of the mast in her path. She jumped but did not vocalize her fear.

"I don't help mortals without payment, Mrs. Sparrow," he growled. "To insure the return of your soul, however, I will be willing to aid you in this endeavor."

"Like I said," Scarlette held her breath. "No. A kraken pulling down _The Necromancer _would kill everyone. I only want to kill Barbossa."

He smiled and his right hand fell to his belt. He pulled out a sword that chimed with sound as it cleared the scabbard. The blade was straight and gleamed a cerulean blue color. It was a claymore, and so obviously a two handed weapon but Jones whirled it around one handed like a pro, no fatigue or control problems. He stuck it into the deck at her feet and the scabbard as well hit the deck with a clatter.

"_Aoi-rozuka_," he spoke the name expertly. "You may have the use of it to assail your foe. No mortal has ever wielded this blade but I will allow you the privilege. It will insure that you and your coterie return to serve."

"Gee, thanks," she said rather sarcastically. Instantly curious however, she called out to the squid-captain. "You do not strike me as someone who gives aid lightly. Why are you helping me?"

"To assure my souls return, lass," he answered. She shook her head.

"No. You already said that. Why are you helping _me_?"

He looked at her then, his eyes holding interest of ages past. "Because you remind me of someone."

"Who?" she asked, meeting his watery eyes and watching them darken with memory of times no mortal alive that day had seen.

"Go on, Sparrow," he answered. "Save your husband, but I will have you both, make no mistake." He leered at her one last time and moved through the air to his ship. _The Dutchman_ sailed off a bit and angled downwards, the water closing over it and making the sea ripple in its wake.

"Well," Scarlette shivered, gripping the handle of the large sword and wrenching it from the deck. "That was interesting."

…**.**

Bootstrap gripped the helm of _the Pearl _and felt his blood run cold. He shivered and looked about for signs of a breeze. What could have made him feel so frozen? There was nothing about that would account for the feeling, no chill winds, no ice on the rigging. It was even midday. When in doubt, a sailor will always turn to religion, or superstition. Bootstrap was not a very religious man.

What he did not know, was that the devil had just spoken his name, conversationally to a crew far away. Bootstrap knew that something was amiss, but not quite to what it pertained. He suspected Jones was up to something, but no screeching of giant squids hailed him, no torrents of water bombarded him. He felt … safe, at least immediately.

It had been eight days since _the Pearl _had left the island chain. They had finally caught up to _The Necromancer _and felt fit to tail her, even running low on rations as they were. Gibbs knew that _The Necromancer _had to be running low as well. _The Dauntless_, having lost many on the volcanic island, had gone back to Port Royal, without the Commodore to lead them. It was some relief to those aboard _the Pearl _that Commodore Norrington was no longer a danger to them.

Will and Topher were happily reunited with their women, Elizabeth and Robin just as happy as pie. Those on the ship that were still agitated over this current mess were not making things easy for everyone else. Gibbs had given the order to tail _The Necromancer _as soon as her masts had come into view. He had met some opposition but it was Bootstrap who had taken the helm without quarrel and led the dark ship towards her foe.

Lizzy was pouting, sitting near the stern and watching the sails of the ship before them undulate in the wind. Sean and Tony, followed closely by Ragetti and Pintel noticed her and took time off from their duties to sort of surround her. They all sat around her in a sort of semi circle.

"What's crackin', babe?" Tony asked, smiling at her. She sighed and brought her hand down from where it had held up her face.

"I don't think we should have left Ryoko," Lizzy spoke sadly.

"She'll be fine, I'm sure," Pintel nodded, sounding smarter than he probably was. "Plus, we've gone to rescue Ol' Jack. He can help us get her back. He's in more danger anyway, what wif being right next to Barbossa an' all."

"I suppose," Lizzy whispered. She looked up and searched their faces. "But you don't know her like I do. If we had found her and taken her with us, I would have known she was fine, but like this, I'm almost sure she's going to find her own way off that island." Lizzy shook her head wildly and brought her knees up to her chin. "She'd do anything to save Jack."

"Well, what really can she do?" Sean asked, raising his hands and shoulders in a shrug. "She's stuck on an island with cannibals and dragons and hostile mermaids, all of which might eat her, given their dietary preferences. She can't much go to their help, can she?"

"She performed a favor for the Lyandize," Lizzy answered. "In their culture, she's as close as a member of their society, and they have the same power the Tyrnise do. They can convert her into one of them, in which case she would be able to swim to us. The Lyandize and Tyrnise are periodically enemies. I would hate to be pitted against her later on. As for the Mekwahz … she _is _a woman, and does descend from a tribe that partook in ritual cannibalism, not to mention she's a linguist. It wouldn't take her long to procure aid from them."

"Yeah," Ragetti bantered. "But there's still those great bloody dragons flying 'bout. How'd ya think she'll 'andle 'em?"

"Well, we didn't really have much problems with them while we were there," Lizzy answered again. "And Heather did manage to ride one. Ryoko's name means 'two-headed dragon' as well as 'demon caller'. Maybe that means something. Although if she comes riding a dragon through here, I'll be very surprised. Make no mistake, though. She'll get off that island somehow."

Anamaria suddenly came running up from below decks, a wild look on her face. Kwan Lyun followed her up, looking distressed.

"Child, what is wrong?"

She bolted towards the helm where Bootstrap and Gibbs were conversing and held out her hands. "Bind me!"

"Er … what?" Gibbs asked. She hissed and jumped in frustration.

"Do something! Kill me! Quickly, or he will finish the spell and be able to control me."

"What's happening?" Elizabeth cried from her place at the gunwales.

"Barbossa is doing a spell," Anamaria answered nervously. "He will control all the dead within range soon. You must do something or I will turn on you! Please!" She threw herself in Gibbs' direction. He caught her and wore such a strange look on his face that she had to push away from him.

"Tie her to the mast," Elizabeth suggested. When no one moved to take action, she tried hefting a large coil of rope that had been stored around one of the marlinspikes. The rope was far too heavy for her to lift.

"No!" Anamaria screamed shrilly and fell to the deck. Her hands convulsed and curved into claw like shapes as she shook uncontrollably. Kwan Lyun tried to help her to her feet but she threw him off with a snarl. He flew a bit farther than normal. This was no longer Anamaria. She had been strong, but women did not throw grown men several feet into the air.

She stood in a flurry of motion, her eyes hungry and foreign. Her arms straightened out and her claw-like fingers scrunched up. She immediately went for Elizabeth, who was closest. Will was not close enough to intervene, but Gibbs was. He froze for only a second, but that was all that was needed for her claws to wrap around Elizabeth's throat.

Gibbs tried prying off the dead woman but her strength had surpassed a human's abilities. Elizabeth was gasping for air and all around the ship, dead things were trying to board.

"Fire! We need fire!" Claudia ran up and pulled a small cylindrical piece of plastic from her pocket. She hit the switch and fire flared up from the lighter. She caught it on Anamaria's sleeve and the fire began to eat at the woman. Elizabeth slumped, now unconscious and Will cut Anamaria at the wrists. She fell back, stumps where her hands used to be. Gibbs pulled the pieces off Elizabeth and tossed them overboard. Anamaria had turned into a moving fire person, a pyre in the shape of a woman. She never made a sound.

Will moved forward to finish her off but Gibbs held him back. Kwan Lyun held up a sword, a Chinese sort of Tai Chi blade, and hefted it expertly. He beheaded her so suddenly, the head stayed on the shoulders for a moment.

Finally, her burning body slumped to the deck and spent itself, the flames dying and showing her form, blackened and unrecognizable. Before she could be moved, skeletal figures boarded _the Pearl_, climbing frantically up the hull and lighting on the deck. It was broad daylight and the deck was crowded with corpses. The crew was quick in their feet however.

Swords were swinging, guns going off, and everyone was screaming or shouting in some form or other. Elizabeth had woken up and was squeaking as she fended off attackers with one of Will's swords.

Bootstrap was going back and forth with a particularly quick zombie, for that's what was assailing them from all directions. He swung at the zombies knees but it jumped, even without eyes to see what he had done. It flew at him, teeth bared and he head butted it. Its head fell back and detached from the neck with a loud snap. The skull rolled across the deck and the body seemed to 'look' at Bootstrap, putting its hands on its hips in a rather annoyed fashion. Bootstrap paled.

_The Pearl_'s crew had been fighting hard but they were overwhelmed. Soon, everyone was held at bay by the zombified corpses. Everyone had been so preoccupied that they hadn't noticed _The Necromancer _broad siding them.

Barbossa boarded grandly, caressing the dark wood of the ship he'd once been captain of and grinningly sneered at the captured crew. "Honey, I'm home."

"You're really weird," Tony told the captain.

"Freak!" Sean exclaimed, convulsing.

The crew was all held captive, the zombies having disarmed everyone. They showed an odd intelligence, reflection on their creator perhaps.

"Greetings, boys and girls," Barbossa growled. "If you don't mind too much, I'll be taking back me ship. Say hello to your new captain." He flourished back and a strangely familiar face came to the fore. It was Norrington.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Claudia spat angrily. "You're dead!"

He smiled. "I suppose that's a matter of opinion, isn't it, Miss Gonzales."

Barbossa cackled. "Norrington here's decided to join my side."

"James Norrington!" Elizabeth spoke harshly. "What do you think you are doing?"

"How dare you ask me such a question," he accosted her, grabbing her face in a firm grip. "You, who all your life have gotten what you wanted. I have been denied in every way. You left me … Robin discarded me … and I was left to be tricked by that Diana witch you called a friend. Not to mention being thwarted at every turn by your friends, those blasted Sparrows. Now, I will have what _I _want. I want you all to suffer!" He shouted the last, pushing away from her terrified face. "I will captain this ship, and you will all obey me, or he will order his pets to tear you limb from limb."

Barbossa smiled sadistically. "Now that the terms have been spoken so clearly by our esteemed Norrington … what have you to say about all this?"

"Where is Jack?" Kwan Lyun asked grumpily. "Is he alive?"

"He's fine," Norrington answered. "He's locked below in a brig having to deal with a rather annoying woman every few minutes, but besides that, he's just fine."

"He'd better stay that way," Marty grunted. He was smacked by Norrington as the ex-commodore paced by him.

"He'll end up as befits him," Barbossa growled. "I have a feeling the Mrs. will show up at some point, though how she'll get off that island is anyone's guess." He laughed as if he had told a particularly uproarious joke.

"You should practice not underestimating that woman," Norrington groaned. "She has a most irritating tendency to surprise us."

"And what is she going to do, hmm?" Barbossa asked sarcastically. "She's stuck on that island. We've not seen her face for a week. Honestly, what can she do anyways?"

A loud boom ripped through the air and one of the zombies exploded.

…**.**

Jack sat up straight in the brig when he heard the sound of cannon fire. He looked about the cell but could see no way to get near a port to see what was going on. He only hoped he didn't get caught by a stray cannonball.

Ruby, who was once again sitting on a gunner bench flaunting herself in his direction gave a little squeak and toppled off the bench. Cannons ripped again and this time, the blast found _The Necromancer_'s hull. Jack hit the deck and didn't poke his head up again until the echoes of the blast stopped ringing around the hold.

Most of the port side was gone. The ship was still afloat, but there was a nice panoramic view of the outside. Jack stepped free of the jail seeing as, once again, he had luckily been freed by cannon fire. He kept low to the deck and looked outside.

A Chinese frigate, covered in green weeds and other aquatic plant life was floating just a few leagues away and standing proudly on the deck was Scarlette, her newly black hair flying in the wind. Jack was startled at her appearance. It was almost like looking into a mirror. She called out to Barbossa, who by now must have been on _the Pearl_. Pointing her swivel cannon in the zombified captain's direction, she grinned.

"Now, we can negotiate."

…**.**

"What do ye want, Mrs. Sparrow?" Barbossa growled, stepping to stand in front of everyone.

"I want you to bloody die and stay that way!"

"So sorry, Ma'am," he grinned. "Anything else?"

"I'll settle for you getting the hell off that ship and returning my husband."

Barbossa leaned against the gunwales and sneered. "Here's what you don't understand, Sparrow. I'm immortal, powerful, strong, and I have the ability to control all these bloody dead things on deck here. What do you have?"

Twelve people paraded up from below decks, their skin a golden color, their hair all assorted. "I have twelve warriors trained from birth to fight, and they're all immortal, babe." She smiled. "And your zombies aren't worth shit against things that don't die."

Barbossa looked around and noticed that all the Lyandize had their arms cocked back, their spears ready to let fly. He met her eyes with his watery green ones and nodded. "Aye, this is a standoff of sorts. But I'll make a deal with ye. We all need to dock and gain supplies. The nearest port is an island not far from here called Martinique. We'll dock there, all three ships, and stock up on supplies. Then, we'll mosey on over to the Isla de Muerta … and have ourselves a duel. If you can manage to kill me, then I will relinquish my claims on your ship, your husband, and your life."

"Because you will be dead," she answered bluntly.

He chuckled. "We shall see who is dead by the end of this little dance."

"Get off that ship," she commanded. "Now."

He raised his hands and chuckled. "Aye, Missy. Off we go. Norrington and I will leave you to yours."

"And take your damn zombies with you," she added. He gave her another of his nasty grins and shook his head as he turned to leave.

"Get rid of them yourself, Sparrow." He started over the gangplank, followed by Norrington, who gave Scarlette such a glare as he left that Barbossa turned around and yanked him by the collar. "Don't taunt her, you fool."

Once they had vacated and _The Necromancer _had pulled away and begun sailing towards what must have been Martinique, Scarlette beamed at the others.

"Well … where would you guys like to go?"

Gibbs blinked at her in shock. "Er … I thought we were goin' ta Martinique and then the cursed Isle."

"We don't need to … not really. I suppose finishing Barbossa off would be nice, but it isn't necessary at this point."

"But Jack is on that ship," Bootstrap pointed out. "Do not tell us you mean to leave him to that devil's mercy?"

Scarlette laughed throatily and surprised everyone. She pointed at the cabin door of _the Pearl _and everyone looked. Jack leaned against the doorframe comfortably. He was drenched with water but other than that, he looked fine.

"How the blazes did you get over here?" Gibbs asked loudly, nudging his captain in the arm to make certain he was real. Scarlette laughed again.

"I didn't spend my entire time stuck aboard _The Necromancer _fighting, you know," she announced. "I knew where they were keeping him, and I knew where to aim to give us the best advantage."

"You're getting quite good at surprising our enemies, luv," he called out. "Now lower the anchor and scurry on over here so we can formulate a plan, eh?"

Scarlette opened her mouth to refuse, thinking about Jones and how hard it would be to keep such a big secret from all those involved, but Jack had managed to keep the same secret from her, and they did need a plan, at least to vanquish Barbossa for the last time. She just didn't feel up to the battle anymore. She turned to give the order but the Lyandize had already lowered the anchor and put the ragged torn gangplank of her ship on line for boarding. She shook her head and scaled into the rigging instead. This was a method she was sure would get her across. That rotted old gangplank looked as if it would crumble if she put her weight on it. She found a rope she was confident in using and targeted the deck of _the Pearl_.

She swung over and landed lightly, throwing her hair out of her face. Jack was beside her in less time than it took for her to compose her face. He froze at her rather worried stare and pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face.

"It's all right, now," he told her.

"For everyone's sake, I hope your correct," she answered, which is what one says if they know it isn't going to be all peaches and cream. She tried to soften her face and not look so afraid, but the promise of pain and suffering to come left her hardened. Jack drew her into his arms and held her for a moment, not understanding exactly what was going on. He looked at the other ship, her still nestled in his arms, and raised an eyebrow.

"Scarlette, darling …" he released her and she looked at his face, which was focused on her ship. "How exactly did you come by that ship?"

A dozen answers ran through her mind but he was not looking at her. He did not see the lies flash across her face. Thinking quickly was luckily her forte and she knew she could not tell him she had merely won it playing cards.

"It is the _Langue de Serpent's_ bounty," she answered. "The treasure is in the hold and the ship was part of the … booty." She'd been about to say _bargain_ but knew that a word like that would raise the wrong flags.

"Ah," he answered, his eyebrows peaking downward. The ship seemed so familiar … almost as if he'd seen something like it once.

"What plan will we be formulating?" she asked, not liking the confused look on his face. Only then did he look at her, but she had learned control, and her face betrayed nothing of her feelings. Her eyes were large and inquisitive and a slight smile curved her lips as she watched him.

He smirked to follow her and tilted his head slightly. "We're going to kill Barbossa, of course … only this time, he'll stay dead."

…**.**

The parade of ships did go to Martinique and all three were set to go to Isla de Muerta as well, for two very different reasons. It hadn't taken Barbossa and Norrington long to realize that Jack was no longer aboard their ship, and to make sure that the Sparrows and company did not escape, they tailed as best they could.

_The Pearl _was never an easy ship to follow, but _The Serpent's Bounty_, as Scarlette had dubbed the new ship, was not as fast. She had insisted on captaining the ship from the beginning. The Lyandize knew why and would tell no one, though they didn't mind terribly that some of _the Pearl_'s crew were there to take up some of the slack. Scarlette had earned the right, or been cursed into it … that ship was hers … at least for sixty-five more days. It had taken eight days to reach the two warring ships and five to sail to Martinique … time was falling faster than grains of sand in an hourglass.

Jack had been slightly uncomfortable, watching her take command of the smaller ship. He was not quite sure, but for some reason he could not discern or fathom, she seemed to be angry with him. He wracked his brain trying to see why she might not be happy with him right at that moment and could think of nothing. In fact, one such pondering session in his cabin brought him to this conclusion. "This is one of the few times where she honestly has nothing to be mad about, and yet she seems distant."

Bootstrap knocked on the door just then. Jack popped it open and eyed him warily.

"How may I be of service to you?" Jack quipped. Bootstrap gave him a sort of glower and pushed his way into the cabin without waiting for an invitation. He shut the door behind him and sat down at the dark wooded table with a heavy sigh. Jack looked rather perplexed and he sat beside his friend at the table.

"What ails you, man?"

"You know, Jack," Bootstrap answered. "_You know _he's out there."

"Barbossa?" Jack answered in a rather hopeful voice. Bootstrap just looked at him and Jack faltered.

"He's closing in, Jack. Don't think he's not … I can feel it. Why are you not worried?"

Jack sighed. "I made a deal with him some twenty or so years ago, Turner. The agreement was for thirteen. If he were to come and get me, it would have been by now. I think he's forgotten about us both, honestly."

"And how do you know he hasn't just had something better to do?" Bootstrap answered. "Jones—"

Jack waved a hand rather violently. "Do not speak of his name over water, mate. I don't much believe in bad luck, but I'd rather not tempt fate."

Bootstrap nodded. "Aye, but I still think we should run inland. He never lets go once he thinks he owns you, and the both of us, my friend, have old debts to the devil."

Jack narrowed his eyes, thinking that some debts were not so old.

"Has anyone ever escaped?" Jack whispered urgently. Bootstrap gave him a tragic look.

"We cannot escape this fate, Jack. Not on water. Land is where we must go. Land is where we must stay. Pirating days are over, unless you want to traffic the rivers … and it's just as well. You have a family, now."

Jack gave him a look and the first stirrings of anger began. "I know the risks involved, mate. I don't intend to endanger them."

"Where did Scarlette get that ship of hers?" Bootstrap asked, and the change of conversation topic was very abrupt. Jack opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He shut it and looked again at Bootstrap. The other man looked grave and seemed to darken without movement as if his soul were fading. Jack got out of his chair and strode to the window.

The green/blue sails of the ship billowed as _the Bounty _corrected slightly behind _the Pearl_. Jack could just see a dark haired figure at the stern. He took in the barnacle-clad ship and tried to remember years back to a very different ship.

He turned back to Bootstrap and his eyes were dark with dread. "She told me that the ship was part of the _Langue de Serpent_ treasure."

"It may very well be as she said," Bootstrap nodded. "But there are not many powers that can raise a ship from the depths and repair it as that one has been. It has not rested above water, there is too much growth on its entirety. I do not know what happened on that island and nor do you, but that ship brings a dread I have not tasted since I met the ocean's devil."

Jack sat down once again and frowned. "Would he even make a deal with a woman?"

"I don't know," Bootstrap answered sullenly. "I would never presume to ask him … or her."

"She wouldn't have done it … would she?" Jack asked more to himself than to Bootstrap.

"If she thought she could rescue you, she would," he answered anyway, eyeing his distraught captain with worry.

"Damn," Jack pounded the table. "That's the one thing that we don't agree on … I'll do almost anything to save myself, and she'll do just the same to save _other_ people."

"And you haven't told her about your own little encounter with him, so you can't ask her if she's managed to run into any … interesting characters lately."

Jack looked at the table and frowned. "I guess I'll have to tell her to find out."

Bootstrap chuckled. "I can see it now. If she doesn't know, you'll be running about the decks ahead of a sword fueled by her hand, no doubt." He raised his voice in a strangely accurate imitation of Scarlette. "_Why the hell would you sell yourself for a ship! What am I supposed to do now?_"

Jack smirked, but it was a shadow of his usual smile. "Let's not get too ahead of ourselves, here. We don't even know if he's out after us. Why bother getting her all worked up for no reason?"

"Because you want to know if she's bargained with him as well," Bootstrap answered.

"Damn you for reminding me," Jack growled. He stood. "I'm off to relieve Gibbs. I'm not going to ask her about it. There's no reason she would keep it from me."

"There is if she's planning on something of which we're not aware," Bootstrap added, always the darker side of any conversation.

Jack opened the cabin door and Bootstrap followed him out. "What could she be planning that she wouldn't include us in?"

…**.**

Scarlette wasn't planning anything. She gripped the helm of her ship and watched _the Pearl _sadly. She knew now that perhaps she should have thought about everything before she simply agreed to Jones' bargain. Sharon and Joaquin would be left alone unless there was something else that could be done. Could a mortal person kill Davy Jones? And what about _the Dutchman's_ crew. They were all tough and hand to hand combat with one would probably hurt a lot.

_The Flying Dutchman _itself did not seem like it would be an easy ship to take out. It could function underwater. What would happen if one managed to blow a hole in the side of it big enough to let in water? Would it sink? And then what? Scarlette groaned in frustration.

She looked back as one of the Lyandize walked past. _The Necromancer _was still following and she could almost feel Barbossa's hungry eyes on her skin. The sword on her back under her coat hummed with unused energy.

_Aoi-rozuka_ had been a claymore when Jones had stabbed it into the deck of _the Bounty_. It had remained that way when Scarlette first strapped it to her back and put the coat on over it. Something strange had happened to it, however. At some point, during the first week of her voyage to save Jack, she'd unsheathed the weapon to find it had changed into a long but light bladed saber, still cerulean and shining with unused power. The claymore she would have had to two-hand but this weapon was wonderfully balanced for her.

She had not drawn the weapon since. Something about it made her uncomfortable, as if the power that lived in the blade wanted a certain destruction that she was not alone capable of bringing about.

She knew though that if it came down to it, she would draw the sword against Barbossa. If anything could kill him, that sword could. Maybe it just took a magic blade imbued with powers no one understood.

The sun was fast leaving the scene and setting below the horizon. Time was running shorter and Scarlette held the stern, hoping there would be an alternative fate for those who had wrought not so pleasant ones.

… Sixty-four days ….

…**.**

It did not take long for _The Dauntless _to reach Port Royal. They seemed rather harried and had wasted no time in leisurely cruising. Gillette and Groves busied themselves, glad the Company was no longer present in port. Post-carnage reports had been given and submitted. Letters were sent off in various directions to inform loved ones and … not-so-loved ones.

One particularly dangerous letter made its way to England and into the hands of another begrudged enemy of Captain Jack Sparrow. Arrangements were made and soon, none other than Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company was on his way to Port Royal on behalf of King George III to not only install a new policing system in the seaside colony, but to insure that certain 'murderers' came to justice.

When Gillette heard this news, he sighed and shook his head. They had just managed to get rid of Mercer, who had been just a scout of sorts. Now, things were getting worse. Port Royal was going to become dangerous for lots of people.

On day sixty-three of the Davy Jones countdown, several people looked off into horizons of varying color and toasted to various things. On _The Black Pearl_, Gibbs toasted to the victory to come. On _the Bounty_, Scarlette toasted to not worrying about things so much. On _The Necromancer_, Barbossa chewed on a green apple and shouted for everyone to rejoice for he will have killed the Sparrows for sure this time. And on _The Endeavour_,Beckett … well, he was holding a rather thick stack of arrest warrants and his face held a quaint little smile as he sipped his brandy and thought about hangings.

Whatever gets your jollies off, man.

…**.**

Well, that was spiffy. Charlotte's Web is over … Finally. And so is this chapter. Finished just after midnight, March 22, 2007. I don't know if I'm going to make the deadline, guys. I've got two months … yeek.


	13. Chapter XII: Cold Rage, Crushing Force

Bonjour, my sleepy little minotaurs. What's kraken? Just kidding. Get it? Hah! Someone gave me a box of PotC;DMC tattoo Band-Aids and I saw pirates bubble bath and chewable vitamins the other day. What the hell? Next thing you're going to see is skimpy underwear with the kraken on them. They have already released the toys for the third movie. That's not right. Whatever.

**Chapter XII – Cold Rage, Crushing Force—**

Libussa sat once again in the Faithful Bride pub and brothel, drinking her grog. Her old frayed dreadlocks hung limply about her head and she absently scratched between them as she picked at the dirt embedded in the wood of the table.

She took another long pull on her tankard and as the grog hit her stomach, another feeling hit her in the gut like a hammer. Dread. She was filled with an untouchable fear that quickened her heart and made her blood race through her wizened veins. She left the tavern without finishing her drink and looked outside. It was midday and the sky was a merry blue. Out to the Northeast, however, was a growing mass of dark clouds. Libussa sniffed the air as if she could sense something about the growing darkness.

She pulled on her old dress, the dark cloth having faded to a rather tired looking lavender color. Something felt odd about those clouds and she could not understand it from where she stood. She tottered with purpose towards the hills farther inland of Tortuga where her brethren roamed when they were not pillaging the town.

The children were running about at the foot of the mountain and as the woman passed them, obvious intention in her steps, they all calmed and watched her begin to ascend the mountain. When she had passed, Liam snickered and pointed after her. He began to follow the woman and Sharon was quick to scramble after him. Joaquin followed his sister and Damian as well would not be left behind. Lenore and Keira were not so keen on the idea of following them up that mountain.

"Don't leave us!" Keira cried out. "What happens if those pirates come and get us!"

"She's right," Liam groaned. He turned to the others. "One of us boys should stay here and protect them." Sharon immediately knocked him to the ground.

"Boys aren't the only strong ones here," she reminded him.

"Then you stay, if you're so tough," Damian honked at her. She threatened him as well and he flinched as Liam brushed himself off.

"No way," she growled. "Not it! Nose goes!" She directly touched her finger to her nose and stuck her tongue out.

There was a quick chorus of 'not it' and Joaquin was the last one to touch his own nose. The other three laughed and pointed at him. He threw his hands up in anguish.

"Aw! Come on! I don't wanna stay behind with the girls! They're gonna make me do dumb things! Last time I had to stay behind, they painted my face like a lady's!"

"Well, then you should learn to be quicker," Sharon laughed. She took off up the hill, following the tracks of Libussa. Liam and Damian were hot on her tail. It didn't take long for them to catch up to her but when they did, she shoved them and the three kids made it into a race.

They caught up to Libussa after not too long and had to hush each other when she came into sight. They proceeded with caution after that, scrambling between growths of bushes and hiding behind dunes of dry dirt. It didn't take long for Libussa to get to the top. She faced the ominous clouds and narrowed her sloe eyes.

Dark clouds reached from far away to tickle the horizon with fingerlike tendrils of darkness. There was lightning dancing far away. She closed her eyes and put her hands forward in the direction of the far away storm. She pushed her power into the air and across the miles to get a taste of what was going on.

She caught a vague image of fluked tails and pale bodies beneath the waves. The Lyandize and Tyrnise were fighting. But why? What had caused this unrest? She concentrated even harder and got more of the tale. There was an unusually high number of Lyandize crossing over Tyrnise territory and the softer race was getting touchy about it because the Lyandize had not negotiated safe passage before crossing borders. That answered the question of _why _they were fighting, but Libussa had other questions.

What had caused the Lyandize to migrate? From the impression she got from the fighting, it was not just one colony, but a mass migration to a point somewhere in the Northeastern area of the Caribbean. Something must have caused it because the Lyandize were an immortal race. They were set in their ways. Something caused them to feel the need to go to a certain place. Were they running from something?

And where exactly was this place in the Northeast to which they were running? More concentration didn't give her much of an answer. She did get an impression of gold, and of broken masts raking the surface. She knew enough of the place to understand that she was seeing the Isla de Muerta's surroundings. She put out a different question, a 'why' this time.

Her power searched around for awhile and suddenly, as she could feel her energy skimming over a long stretch of clear grey water, she was slammed, not physically, but mentally, by something else. The force of it shunted her back into her own body and sent her skidding along the dry dirt of the hillside.

The three kids shrieked and ran out to the felled bandit. They touched her face and took her pulse and other such things. She was breathing but unconscious.

"Well … what do we do?" Damian asked, shrugging in slight distress.

"We could carry her, I guess," Liam suggested. "There's two of us, I bet we could handle it." A rock hit him in the chest as an annoyed Sharon vented her thought on the idea.

"There are three of us here," she snarled. "Or do you think I wouldn't help?" Liam didn't give her an answer and she continued. "We shouldn't move her. We don't know how bad she's hurt and it's a long way to the foot of the hill, at least carrying someone."

"Sure," Liam chided. "You just don't want to do any work." He braced himself for Sharon launching her body at him. They tussled while Damian placed a dirty hand on Libussa's forehead. She sat up abruptly and he squeaked, backpedaling. She had wide eyes and her mouth was open in shock. She looked over at him and her expression darkened.

"Eh!" she shouted at the other two, who were wrestling rather loudly. "Knock it off!" They froze and looked at her, Sharon holding a handful of Liam's thick brown hair, him gripping the one wrist he'd managed to capture and tensing to take a bite out of it. They released each other and came over to where Libussa was still sitting, her feet out in a straight line.

"Are you all right, Ma'am?" Liam asked her, kneeling. His hair had come undone and was longer than what his mother would have been happy about. Libussa just stared him down and he blinked nervously.

"What happened?" Sharon asked in a more excited tone. "Did you get a vision?"

"Yes." Libussa left it at that, finally getting to her feet. "Jou could say dat. Come along." She led the way back down the hillside but she did not go all the way down. She entered the cave of the bandits and since they were not told to stay outside, the three children trouped along to satisfy their curiosity.

Libussa entered the main chamber before long and addressed the person on the throne, who happened to be Makeo rather hurriedly. "I must speak wid my sista. Where she be?"

"Hold on, 'Bussa," he growled. "Why're the little ones here?"

She looked back as if she had forgotten them. "Dey will not be a burden to dis conbersation an' will not eben understand most ob it. Send dem away if it make jou feel betta."

Makeo smiled slightly and called out to a young boy who he'd been speaking to before they had entered the cave. Stefano was his son, about ten years old, and would soon be leader of the riding bandits. Unorna had left most of the ruling work to Makeo lately and he had been made to train his son early. For the moment, however, Stefano would take Liam, Sharon, and Damian to another part of the cave to play.

The four of them scuffed through the darker parts of the cave and came to a sort of cul-de-sac. Stefano lit a torch without effort and smiled rather secretively as he depressed a specific stone. A door appeared in the dark stone and he pushed it open. They followed.

"How did you do that?" Sharon asked. "That shouldn't be possible. Even if you had a spell on the door that disguised it, the wall would have felt like wood where the door was supposed to be. I touched that wall and all I felt was stone."

"There are powerful magics in here," Stefano told her. "Some even to fool all the senses."

"Where are we going?" Liam asked. He didn't really like Stefano much and only part of that was a lack of trust. The boys were about the same age, Liam was a little older … nothing had really happened between them to put that distaste there … but there it was.

"Where are we going? We're going to ride the shoot out." Stefano answered cheerfully.

"What does that mean?" Damian asked. If he shared in Liam's dislike, he didn't show it.

"I'll show you. You can all swim, right?"

They all answered affirmatively and Stefano smiled, holding his torch up high. "Great, then. This'll be fun. Just don't panic."

"Why would we panic—oh!" Sharon stopped abruptly as Stefano dropped from sight and apparently vanished. The light went with him and the corridor was suddenly pitch black. Liam collided with Sharon and Damian pressed into Liam. Sharon was so unstable with the surprise of darkness, she stepped forward and fell feet first into the hole Stefano had willingly gone into. Her scream left Liam and Damian shaking in the darkness.

"What do we do?" Damian asked the older boy. Liam shook his head but realized that his friend couldn't see him.

"We can't really do anything. We can't go back … it's too dark and we don't know where the switch to open the door is at. We can't go forward unless we go into the hole." There was a hissing sound that they hadn't noticed before that seemed to fill the cave. It was coming from the hole.

"We can't just stay here! What do we do! What do we do!"

"Calm down! I wasn't finished," Liam caught his breath for a moment and plowed on again. "Stefano went into that hole … he knew it was there. He told us not to panic. So maybe we should just … go into the hole."

"What? I don't wanna! It sounds like there's something big in there!"

"Well? You want to leave Sharon down there?" Liam growled. "You want a girl to be tougher?"

"Sometimes I think she is," Damian answered meekly. Liam sat there for a moment and stood, grabbing the back of Damian's shirt.

"Up, you little coward," he growled. He roughly dragged Damian to his feet and pushed him into the hole. Damian shrieked as he fell and Liam was not far behind.

They did not have very long to wait as the hole's walls curved and spilled them into water that was about three feet deep and flowing rather quickly. They were shunted along the icy water and finally, they could see. There was light coming in through holes in the roof of the cave they were now in and the water was a clear color.

The water rushed faster and faster and finally, they could see why. The horizon of water was present ahead, which meant ….

"WATERFALL!" they shouted at once, and before they could do anything about it, they were both swept over the lip of water and were falling. They didn't have very far to fall, however. They both landed in a turquoise pool of water, close to shore. Sharon was sitting on a log, squeezing water out of her long hair and smiling. Stefano finished skipping stones across the pool and laughed at them.

"You finally showed up, eh?" he laughed.

"Oh, shut up," Liam muttered, climbing out of the water. He sat next to Sharon and removed his shoes, dumping the water out of them.

"We were taking bets on whether we'd have to go back up and get you or not," she told him, flipping her wet hair back. He turned around and looked at her rather in an unfriendly way.

"You fell in. It's not like you weren't scared," he told her. She frowned and pointed at him.

"Well, if you hadn't run into me I wouldn't have fallen in. It's not my fault you're clumsy."

"Oh yeah?" Liam shouted. "Well … you're a girl."

"So? I'd go down that shoot again. I'm not scared to do it." She didn't stand up but crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a smirk.

"I don't want to do that again," Damian sighed, flopping down on the sand. "I didn't want to do it in the first place. Liam pushed me into the hole."

"Aha!" Sharon looked at Stefano. "I win."

"What did you guys bet on?" Liam asked, sitting down again. She beamed and laughed with glee.

Stefano answered instead. "She bet that you guys would follow her out but Damian would have to be forced."

"And what did you bet?" Damian huffed from his place on the sand.

Stefano gave him a grin, a flash of white teeth in a dark face. "I bet that we'd have to go get you."

"Whatdya win, girlie?" Liam asked, nudging Sharon. She shoved him back.

"I won a share of his first raid on the village."

"Pirate."

"Wimp."

"Girl."

"Same to you, buddy," Sharon smiled. Liam got up but she was already running across the sand.

"Take it back!" he shouted after her.

"Make me!"

Stefano watched them run down the beach and turned to Damian, who looked about to take a nap. "Do they always fight like this?"

Damian opened one eye and scrunched his face up against the sun. "Yeah. I can't tell if they like each other or hate each other."

"One of those love-hate relationships?" Stefano spoke words he'd only heard but not had the meaning to before this little event.

"I guess."

…**.**

Libussa and Unorna sat around a small table. Makeo had gotten them something to drink because his mother had told him to do so. He may have been next in line to rule the bandits, but she was still his mother.

"And you say you saw a dead woman?"

"Yes, I saw her … but de surroundin's, dey were not'ing like I eber see here." Libussa sipped her drink and put the cup down. She began gesticulating wildly. "Dere was huge buildin's an' carriages dat went widout horses an' dis girl on de ground wit' blood all ober. She was dead, shot in de heart."

"Interesting," Unorna pondered. "Did you recognize the girl? What did she look like?"

"Yes, she look like one o' dem girl Jack Sparrow had wid 'em last time he come here. She wore her hair short and black and her brown eyes were still open in de vision."

"Do you remember her name?"

"Not from Sparrow's visit, no'm … but in de vision, dere was a man what took sommat from her pocket and read it out loud. I t'ink it was her name."

"What did he say?"

"Kami Maxwell."

…**.**

_The Pearl _and _Bounty _arrived in the waters of Isla de Muerta first … almost an entire day ahead of their pursuers. It was well they did because the waters were full of not just the hammerhead sharks that usually inhabited the ship graveyards and surrounding waters, but a large amount of Lyandize. They had journeyed there to beseech their brethren aboard _the Bounty_. Something was wrong.

Dacor sent Alfor and Wiobr to see what the matter was exactly and they came back with a Lyandize chieftain that made Scarlette's skin crawl. He was not nearly as big as Wiobr, but he had power … it crawled along her skin and ate at her mind. She could feel him standing on the deck as if he were surrounded by magic.

"Hello, sir." she smiled tentatively. "What business may I do for you?"

"I am Joste, High Chieftain of the Lyandize." He had blood red kelp-like hair down to his waist and one feature she had never seen on Lyandize in human form or even in their mer-forms. As he changed to human form, his legs separated, but remained scaled and luminescent. He also had a dorsal fin like that of a shark just above the small of his back. His eyes were black … all black. There were not even any whites.

"Joste, it's nice to have you aboard," she answered. "What's happening?"

"Dacor and the others must come with me," Joste answered, gripping his spear. "Tyrnise wages war due to our crossing to this location. Dacor and others with him have fine skill and must come to join battle."

"Wait … you guys are at war?" Scarlette frowned. "Why are you fighting? Because you crossed borders?"

"We had to come here. We knew Dacor and others would be here."

"Why did you have to come here?"

"To take back our warriors."

Scarlette pursed her lips. "No. Let me test my understanding here." She looked around and noticed vaguely that she was the only human on deck. "You were not at war before you crossed all those Tyrnise territories, correct?"

"No. War was not possible in time of peace, but we had to come here."

"Okay, so no war until you started traveling here. You came here because you knew that Dacor and company would be here and you needed them."

"Yes, that is true."

"What did you need them for?"

"The war. They are great warriors."

"So you knew there would be a war? You deliberately caused a war?"

"No, no. Did not want war to come now."

"Then why did you need to come here to get them?" Scarlette was smiling. "You must have wanted them for something other than fighting because you said yourself you didn't want to have a war. Since there wasn't a war until you started crossing territories … that means you wanted them for something else first. So tell me, Joste. What's up? What's the real story here?"

Joste frowned. "Humans are supposed to be stupid. You are not."

"It's okay," she answered. "Most of them are. So tell me what's happening, really."

"There is a large creature we call Dhaka that is eating Lyandize all around the Caribbean."

"What's a Dhaka?" asked a familiar voice. Scarlette turned and Morgan's ghost was hovering behind her. She frowned at him and he shrugged. "I thought it was somewhere in India."

"I don't think this is a city," Scarlette pointed out.

"It is controlled by the Sea Devil."

"Davy Jones," Dacor elaborated as his chieftain would not. "The Dhaka is our word for the kraken."

"Yes," Grdn continued. "We summoned the Sea Devil to enquire as to why he was attacking us. He answered that the Lady Sparrow was aided by twelve Lyandize warriors and he wished the beast to acquire a taste for the immortal in case she chose to run. He also hoped that their flesh would make his beast harder to hurt."

"You are what you eat," Scarlette muttered. Jones was already preparing for her. Damn.

Morgan was irate. "You made a deal with Jones? That's how you got this ship, isn't it! Why would you do that?"

"Morgan, shut up!" Scarlette commanded. He growled at her but stopped talking. "I had my reasons and I don't feel like explaining myself to you but I'll make one thing clear. Jack and the others don't know and I don't want them to know until they have to, understand? So if you see them, keep your dead mouth shut."

"How much time do you have left?" he asked. "Years, right?"

She sighed. "I have 60 days … two months."

"Jesus! Why did he give you so little time?"

"I asked him to. Now, be quiet!" she turned back to Joste. "So you came to warn them? What exactly did you want?"

"If they no longer aid you, then Dhaka will not hunt us."

Dacor knelt before Joste. "My Chieftain, I understand why you come here, but the lady has done us a great favor and should be rewarded with our aid. We must repay her for freeing us from the death-god of the island."

Joste growled loudly and pounded the deck with his spear. "No. Cannot fight Dhaka and Tyrnise at the same time, you know this."

"But our own laws state that we must repay a favor immediately. We cannot leave her until our debt is repaid."

Joste looked at Dacor kneeling and his black eyes rose until he met the green ones of Scarlette. He walked towards her on awkward feet, as if he were not quite comfortable with legs. When he was almost brushing her, he stopped. They were so close that Scarlette wanted to back away. His power was an ache now, deep in her bones.

"If the debt must be paid, then I will gift her. I will make her one of us."

"No!" Dacor and Scarlette moved simultaneously. Scarlette ended up backing through Morgan, dousing her skin down to her core in the ice cold feel of ghost.

"I have no doubt that it would be a great gift," she spoke nervously, backing up as Joste advanced. "But I cannot accept. I am human, I have a human life … please … try to understand."

Dacor was following his chieftain closely. "You cannot make her Lyandize against her will and it is illegal to make others in times of war."

A few things happened all at once. Scarlette, running out of places to go, ended up backed against the bow's railing. She braced herself for something, not sure exactly what. Joste's cold hand touched her neck and a jolt of power rushed through her body, turning her insides to ice. She fought back with the only power she had at the moment … necromancy. It collided with Joste's power and he released her, looking at his hand. His palm blackened and the darkness began to spread down his arm. When he was dark nearly to his elbow, he looked at her.

"What have you done, human?"

"I don't know," she whispered. He grasped his arm in the other hand and squeezed. She could feel that he was pushing power into his arm. The darkness receded and a few moments later, it was gone, completely gone. She was not a Lyandize, but as with the deity on the bow of _The Necromancer_, there was a stain left behind of Lyandize power. She could still taste it.

"This one will not be ours," Joste growled. "We cannot kill her. You have a debt to pay to her. The Dhaka and the Tyrnise will destroy us."

Scarlette brushed her coat off and frowned. "I think we can come to terms. Dacor … I hate to say it, but you and your men are free. You've helped me a lot but I didn't mean to put your entire race in danger. I only ask that you help me kill Barbossa. Even with this crazy sword, I don't think I can do it."

Dacor looked to his leader and Joste nodded. "I will help as well. You will have our armies at your back, Lady Sparrow."

"Wow," she smiled. "That was way more than I ever imagined. We're going to kick his ass!"

…**.**

King George's representative for the Company was not a very large man. In fact, he was only three inches taller than Scarlette. His lack of height had never bothered him. He was an obsessively neat person and his clothing always matched in its entirety. He preferred boots to buckle shoes and he owned the most expensive wig in all of Jamaica.

The man was a bit of a narcissist, with paintings of himself in abundance wherever he happened to be stationed. He disliked people in general and unless he felt he was speaking to an intellect, he oft times bore such irritated tone that one might think him angry, or at least vaguely disinterested. Even as high as his position was, this man was not a white, unstained soul. He was very well acquainted with the dark side of ambition and never hid his alignment. It may have been why King George III appointed him instead of a more deserving, fully law-abiding aristocrat.

Cutler Beckett, a relatively new addition to the House of Lords sat at what was once Commodore Norrington's desk and would soon be his own when a hurried looking officer stumbled in with a rather nervous look upon his face.

"Lord Beckett, sir?" he began.

"What is it Mr. Murtogg?" Beckett didn't even look up, immersed in yards of paper detailing the upkeep of the port in past years.

"Well … you see sir … you ordered that Governor Swann come in for questioning … that is … about the Commodore's murder … but … well, he _has _been governor for quite some time now … and … well …. er …."

Beckett sighed. "Murtogg, if you do not get to the point soon, I will begin to think you are buying time for someone … and since that is a crime if it delays an investigation, and it is … I am perfectly within rights to hang you with the culprits, understand?"

"Y-y-yes, sir."

"Now … where is Governor Swann?"

"In the Governor's Mansion, sir."

"Is he coming here for questioning?"

"No, sir."

Another sigh. "Why ever not?"

Murtogg gulped. "He doesn't believe you have the a-a-a-authority to order him to interrogation, sir."

Beckett looked up at him then. "Well, then I will have to send proof and incentive for him to willingly adhere to my word." He opened the desk drawer and pulled out a roll of parchment. "I did not want to have to waste one of these on the town's own political figure, however, I find the discipline of Port Royal's delinquents is rather lax. This is an official summons. Mr. Mercer …" Beckett signed the paper neatly and rolled it back up, tying a neat blue ribbon around it. He held it out and it was taken by a rather imposing man.

"Yes, m'Lord," Mercer answered, holding the parchment delicately in one hand. Mercer was Beckett's right hand and did all sorts of nefarious deeds for his quid, including sometimes assassinating well-meaning individuals. His last trip to Port Royal had left him with little to do but a keen sense of where the port's loyalties listed.

"Take this to Governor Swann post haste, and make sure he understands that if he refuses the order, I will find other, less friendly means of bringing him into Fort Charles, and not necessarily under his own power. Is that clear?"

Mercer nodded and swept past Murtogg, placing a hat on his head and sneering at the officer, who shook in his boots at the look of the other man. It seemed almost at times that Mercer was able to project fear from his person. Not many people would stand close to him at any time, let alone when he wore that look.

"W-w-what shall I do, Lord Beckett?" Murtogg asked, gripping the butt of his rifle nervously. Beckett looked up at him with a slightly annoyed expression and Murtogg gulped again.

"Stand outside the door and wait for further direction."

"Y-y-yes, sir."

Beckett blinked as the man shivered and moved towards the door. "On second thought, have a seat. I have some questions for you. I understand that you and your partner Mr. Mullroy have had dealings in the past with the Sparrows. Now, just knowing that, I can in fact have you hung if you impede me by not answering my questions."

Murtogg about pissed himself, more falling into the chair than sitting. "W-w-what questions, m'Lord?"

Beckett smiled slightly, his blue eyes focusing, moving in for the kill. "Those two are rather slippery entities. I would know Jack immediately on site yet somehow he escapes any time he is brought into custody. Scarlette has only been apprehended by the Company once but she as well managed to escape without a trace. I personally have never seen her and so I might even pass her on the street without recognition. My question for you is … where do they stay while in port? It is plain that they frequent Port Royal, but Norrington has never been able to nail them down. A mercenary of ours, Christian Topher, has even seen them upon many an occasion, but never been in a situation where he could arrest them."

Murtogg didn't want to tell this man anything, but looking into his intelligent face, he knew that he was being toyed with in that moment. Beckett knew exactly where the Sparrows stayed while in Port Royal. He was testing Murtogg.

"Allow me to sweeten the deal, Murtogg," Beckett put his white hands on the desk and opened a drawer, his dark teal coat and vest not part of any uniform but still looking quite official. He plopped a leather binder on the desk and met Murtogg's eyes.

"W-w-what are those, m'Lord?"

"I am employing you, Mr. Murtogg. And your partner as well. You will no longer be known as Port Royal's King's Navy men, but Port Royal Marines, of the East India Trading Company. Your pay will increase, you will find, and the uniform is rather more stylish if such things mean anything to you. Besides that, if those despicable pagans call you their friends, you can always told them I ordered the information from you."

Murtogg hung his head and took the binder, opening it to the neatest writing he had seen outside of a magistrate's office.

…**.**

Two hours later, Governor Swann entered the office, a rather exasperated look on his face. He held up the official summons and cocked his eyebrow up. "This was hardly necessary Cutler Beckett. I am the Governor of Port Royal. There are niceties between us that must not be overlooked."

Beckett smiled, his eyes half lidded. "I trust then that you will address me as Lord Beckett from now on?"

"Lord? Well, congratulations. I had not heard of your promotion, er … good fortune. How may I be of service to you?" He tried to cover his slip on thoughts of Beckett's status. Lord was not a title one could be promoted to but if one were in a rich individual's good trust, then perhaps. Governor Swann sounded genuinely interested, but all that would change. Beckett was not here to smooth over anyone's feelings.

"I have been looking at the crime records of this town in the last ten years. There have only been four executions and none of them were for any of the more serious crimes reported. The jail has in the last ten years held pirates, bank robbers, arsonists, bandits, and one assassin. The four men who were executed were not guilty of any of these crimes. One was killed for impersonating you."

The Governor had the grace to blush. "Well, he was quite disruptive."

"Another was executed for trying to kidnap your daughter."

Another blush. "Tavington deserved his fate. He was an attempted murderer, a sexual sadist, and had wounded not only the Commodore but a lady friend of my daughter's, a woman named Claudia Gonzales."

"Ah," Beckett smiled. "And what of the other two? One hung for burning Bibles and the other taken in for pick pocketing but hung for poisoning the jail's dog? Why would these men be killed but the others left to rot?"

Governor Swann shrugged. "Cutler –er … Lord Beckett … forgive our records but … pirates keep managing to destroy the gallows. We would have hangings more often save for that fact."

"I see," Beckett answered with enough contempt to fill a bucket. "Then why hasn't someone taken some sort of action against these pirates?"

"Norrington has done so, as have _you_. The King's Riders were especially brought in by the Company because pirates have rather abandoned attacking the town by sea and exclusively infiltrated to land where they burn people out of their houses."

"And how were the gallows destroyed?"

"Cannon fire."

"Ah, but you said pirates were exclusively infiltrating by land, not sea."

The Governor looked embarrassed again. "They have been. The last time the gallows were destroyed, they were blown apart by cannons stationed on the ramparts, not by any ship."

Beckett raised one thick eyebrow and his lips formed a pucker that clearly said 'I am much better than you, you pansy-assed idiot.'

"It seems you _have_ been lax. _Exceptionally_ lax. I am, by order of the King of England, George William Frederick, within my rights to take over the policing of Port Royal entirely. Which brings me to another issue. I summoned you here to ask about the murder of one Commodore James Norrington as well as other naval officers that were assigned to the _H.M.S. Dauntless_ on her last endeavor."

"Well, I will answer your questions as best I can, but seeing as the murder took place at sea, I may not have much information, at least none that will help you."

Beckett sat again in the chair behind the deck and lifted out of a bottom drawer a leather satchel. He pulled out a stack of parchment and placed them on the desk beside the satchel. "These are the arrest warrants for those involved in the Commodore's murder. I want you to look them over and give me information on the individuals included."

Governor Swann took the stack of arrest warrants and read them one by one. "Jack Sparrow, Scarlette Sparrow, William Turner … Elizabeth Turner? Cutler, you do not mean to tell me that—"

"It's _Lord _Beckett, and continue reading, Governor. Your daughter is not above the law."

"She did not do this."

"Do you mean to tell me," Beckett narrowed his eyes. "That being on that ship and watching her husband fight the naval officers boarding that she had absolutely nothing to do with the murder of not just Commodore Norrington but a handful of other officers and seamen under the employ of England's royal Navy? Can you honestly be her advocate until you see her and hear what she has to say?"

Governor Swann frowned and stuttered a bit but finally looked Beckett in the eye. "No … I suppose I can't."

"Then please, continue."

The governor cleared his throat and read the rest of the names. Robin, Topher, Lizzy, David, Gibbs, and Bootstrap were among those listed. Also, underneath the stack were a few sketches of persons whose names were not known to the magistrates but _The Dauntless' _crew had recognized.

"Can you identify any of these people for me?" Beckett asked with mock inflection. Swann looked at him with anger.

"I know some of them," he answered. "I want assurance that my daughter will not be among those executed."

"You have all the promise I can give you that she will not be harmed." Beckett smiled. His words would have fooled no one but the Governor.

"Very well," Governor Swann perused the sketches. "This one is Miss Claudia Gonzales, the woman I mentioned to you earlier. These two are Miss Kristin Thornburg and Miss Heather Cook. These two men … I have never heard their full names but this strange looking one is called Sean and the other is Tony. As for this girl … I have never seen her before. It says here she has purple hair?" He was looking at a sketch of Chelsea.

"I did enquire as to the sanity or perhaps sobriety of the man who gave the account. He was not one to lose his wits, even in times of stress. One of the men is supposed to have pink hair. I imagine it has something to do with some cosmetics."

"Wigs, then?"

"No." Beckett left it at that.

"Well …" Governor Swann swung his hat nervously. "I suppose if you have nothing more to say to me … then I will go."

Beckett laughed, a clear, harsh sound that no one heard often. "Why are you so nervous, Governor?"

Swann swallowed and answered. "I've heard enough about your reputation to be nervous, Lord Beckett. You run your branch of the East India Trading Company with an iron hand and now you've come to run my town the same way. I'll be lucky to be more than a figurehead here when you're finished."

Beckett smiled and poured a glass of some red liquid that fragranced the room as it fell into the glass. "Quite. You may go now, Weatherby."

"Thank you, Cutler."

…**.**

_The Necromancer _arrived at sunset, the perfect time for a battle. _The Pearl _was behind the island, hiding away from _The Necromancer_'s guns, but _the Bounty _sat picturesque with the creepy mist covered island. Scarlette waved at _The Necromancer _as she sailed closer and Barbossa growled, showing his dirty teeth.

"I'm surprised you even showed up here, Sparrow," he shouted to her. "After all, your husband is with you. It's not as if you have anyone to rescue now, is it?"

"Actually, I do," Scarlette answered. She pointed at the crew behind him. Mullins with his wild hair, McMutton with his kilt, and Cob with his hypochondria issues were standing closest to the gunwales. "These are good men and don't deserve to be under your command. And Norrington, where he is kind of an ass sometimes, doesn't deserve to be paraded about like a puppet."

Norrington frowned from his place behind Barbossa. "Well, I never expected to hear _that_."

"Nor I," Barbossa added. "Do you have a problem with me?"

Norrington shrugged. Barbossa took that as a good thing and turned back to Scarlette. "Let's get into the cave and have us a duel, eh missy? And tell your blasted husband to stay out of it. I want to kill _you _before anything else."

Scarlette laughed. "There must be some reason why you thirst for my blood, Barbie. Why are you gunning for me this time?"

Barbossa grinned. "There be lots of books on this power o'er the dead in this ship, Missy. Turns out, if I kill you, I get your power too, and with that, I can raise enough zombies to take over the entire Caribbean, and maybe all the seas." He laughed wickedly and motioned for the men to lower a boat. He continued to speak to her as the small boat was drawn closer to the water. "Your blood, the blood of my mortal enemy, was used as well in the spell to revive me. It gives me an extra hatred for you, not to mention all the Easter eggs you hid in that wish."

Scarlette was working with Raare to lower her own boat and she froze. "That's interesting …"

"Do not worry," Raare whispered to her. "He will not win."

She turned to him, holding her rope taught as he held his. "How can you be so sure?"

He smiled, a brilliant flash of white against his dark skin. "With the armies of Lyandize behind you, he could never win."

She frowned. "Lower the boat. I'm going to get into it."

"As you wish."

…**.**

Scarlette allowed Barbossa's boat to navigate the canals first. He'd only taken two men with him and from what Scarlette could see, they looked like Bert and McMutton.

In her boat was only herself and Raare, who had assigned himself to be her personal bodyguard until this business was over. She gripped the hilt of her sword and sighed. As much as she wanted Barbossa dead, she wasn't sure how she felt about overwhelming him with immortal beings such as the Lyandize. It wasn't fair.

She was a pirate, and pirates did not always play fair, especially not against other pirates … but something was bothering her. It was evident enough that Raare mentioned it.

"Are you merely feeling nervous about the battle ahead?" he asked her as he rowed powerful strokes with his muscular upper body.

"No. I find this a little embarrassing, but I'm feeling guilty for the odds. For Barbossa cannot win, no matter what he tries. The Lyandize will see to that. Under my own power, I may be able to defeat him, but this way … it is inevitable."

Raare paused in his rowing. The boat coasted forward and tapped against the rock wall lightly. He picked up his rhythm again once he'd pushed off the wall. "Think of it not as cheating, for you are not. You merely have better tools at your disposal. Armies do not feel guilty for defeating an enemy due to numbers or better weaponry. He needs to die, does he not? Does it matter terribly how his death comes about?"

"I suppose not," Scarlette answered. "But I would ask, if you can manage it, that the Lyandize do not kill him. I will do that, with my own sword. You guys just make sure he doesn't kill me or anyone else, and we'll be fine."

Barbossa was already standing atop a mound of treasure when Scarlette's boat scuffed the silt-filled shores of the inside of Isla de Muerta. She stepped out, managing to land and not get wet. She removed her coat and thought about removing _Aoi-rozuka_ but in the end, left it strapped to her back. She drew her own sword and eyed Barbossa on his golden tower of treasure.

She was so concentrated on the bad guy before her, she didn't see Jack's hand snake out and grab her. She gasped and frowned but gave him soft eyes. He drew her close and when she was pressed against his chest, he spoke.

"What are you planning, luv?"

She looked up at him. "You don't think I can do it, do you?"

He had the grace to look embarrassed. "That's not what I meant."

"Perhaps not," she answered, backing a step away. "But it was a thought, was it not?"

He gave her an innocent face. "Is it so wrong for me to worry for your safety?"

She smiled, took back her step and kissed his nose. "No. Don't worry. Under the water is an army's worth of Lyandize that owe me a favor. Barbossa is not leaving this island alive … in one piece. Technically, he is still dead."

"Understand," he gripped her face lightly and met her green sight with eyes that were almost black in the dim light of the cave. "If it looks too dangerous, I will interfere. This is a battle for my life as well, is it not?"

"I suppose," she answered. He covered her mouth with his before she could say anything else.

"As cute as this is, I want to get on with the fight," Barbossa crooned from the treasure mound.

"Shut up," Sean shouted at him.

"Yeah," Tony added. "You're just jealous."

Barbossa laughed. "Jealous. Now that's one thing I haven't been for a while. No, boys, jealousy is not on my menu, but impatience … now there's an emotion with which I can identify."

"Aw, quit yer bellyachin'," Gibbs grunted. Scarlette laughed and stepped away from her husband. As she hopped over the canal to the centerfold island, Will leaned over and whispered to Jack.

"Are you just going to let her go and fight him?"

Jack smirked. "Better him, than me."

Will blanched. "What?" Jack didn't give any more response than an eloquent look. Will sneered. "You mean to tell me that she'll win? No questions asked?"

"Watch for yourself, boy," Jack stared straight ahead. "All questions will be answered."

Will made a rather confused face but turned back to watch the show, excuse me, duel.

Scarlette held her thin sword in her right hand, her left crooked back slightly, her hand resting high up on her leg. Barbossa was laughing as he held his cutlass aloft.

"All right. To the death, is it?"

"Yours, at least," Barbossa grinned. "If not everyone in this caves'." He lunged without prelude. Scarlette bent her legs and ducked under his blade, lashing out for him. He jumped back and she managed to score a slash against his right leg.

"Arr!" Barbossa crooned but his anguished cry ended in a gurgling laugh. "First blood be yours, wench … if I bled, that is." He speared the wound with his finger. No blood fell from the wound. While he was showing it off, Scarlette, full of fury, lunged at him and swiped across his front. He blocked viciously and the force of their blades clashing sent Scarlette falling. She caught herself before hitting the water and had just enough time to throw herself to the side as Barbossa came bearing down on her.

And just like that, she was running. She scooted through a sort of natural hallway that ascended and turned around in time to parry a flurry of attacks from the zombie pirate Barbossa. She was forced to physically dodge many of the attacks simply because he was so much stronger than she was. Even blocking was dangerous.

They clashed and he pushed her up against a rock. She swallowed when she realized none of the Lyandize could reach her up there.

"I'll make a deal. I'll let everyone go if you let me kill you here and now and claim your powers."

"Sure, sounds great," she answered, sounding just this side of sarcastic.

"What?" he asked, confused enough to let off a little weight. She slumped to the side, where the ledge was frightfully close, and rolled off, landing in the water below. Barbossa snarled and rather than run back down the slope and jump to the treasure mound, he launched himself from the ledge to land on the pile of gold miscellanea.

Scarlette had just been pushed up from the water by two Lyandize she did not know when he landed. She looked up, soaking wet and wide eyed and watched him turn, looking at her with enough confidence to make a rabbit take down a bear.

"I hope you didn't think your immortal friends would be of much use to you," Barbossa growled, sounding for all the word like a large carnivorous animal that just happened to speak piratical English.

"What do you mean," she asked carefully, crab walking to try and side step the monster that had claimed the upper ground.

"The Lyandize, of course …" he spat into the water. "Many more than your twelve fine warriors. Shame on you, Sparrow. Did you not wonder why I only brought two men into the cave?"

Scarlette spared a look over at Bert and McMutton. They shrugged. She looked back and just managed to parry the attack that came from the impassable monster above her. He laughed as she backed away and stood far out of reach.

"Your immortal guards can't attack me if they are suitably distracted, can they, now?" he asked and pointed. Under the water, Scarlette could see mer-creatures and skeletons fighting. A pair of them rolled just under the surface and she could see a skeletal arm stuck through the torso of the Lyandize guardsman.

"There, you see," Barbossa gurgled. "You can't beat me, missy. You haven't got what it takes."

"Is that so?" she asked angrily, giving him her full eye contact. She put forth her left hand, fingers pointing in his general direction. "You were never actually restored to life, did you know that? All I did was make you harder to hurt, but you're still a zombie. A big, ugly, pirate zombie. And guess what?" she grinned. "I have power over zombies." She clenched her fist and Barbossa dropped to his knees, one arm reaching out to her. He managed to keep a hold of his sword.

"Rrrr! You … think you … can … order me around … do ya?" he asked, obviously strained. "Well, try this on for size." He stood and swung his unarmed hand and her power was sent back at her. It hit her with such a force she was knocked off her feet and into the water.

"Hah! You have _no_ power over me. You gave me a will of my own with that wish and it is _not_ yours to command." He had moved closer to where she had fallen with each word and was there when she climbed out of the water again. She put her sword up to block and only managed to get thrown off balance by the blow to her blade. There was a loud bang sound and Barbossa staggered back a few steps. Scarlette gained her footing and nodded a thanks to Jack, who busily started reloading his pistol. Barbossa stared at the smoking hole in his chest and sneered.

"The time for bullets hurting me is long past. I'll take your impudence out on her!" Barbossa charged and swung his sword in a long arc. Time seemed to slow down remarkably. Scarlette blocked with her sword, the blade covering her head, and pulled a dagger from her boot. His torso was wide open and she buried the dagger between his ribs.

His blade came down with such a force, the sword above her shattered into three pieces and rained the shiny metal bits upon her. Her right arm was struck completely numb. It was the second time Barbossa had shattered one of her blades. The last time he had done it, he had stabbed her afterwards, nearly killing her.

She fell to her knees with the force and Barbossa backed up. He pulled out the dagger and giggled. Barbossa _giggled_. Scarlette met his eyes and sighed. She was done for, might as well face him like a man. She looked back at Jack and saw that he and the others were being restrained by a pack of zombies that would have given _Left 4 Dead_ experts a run for their money.

"Look at me, Sparrow," Barbossa growled. "I want to see those green eyes glaze over as you die." Scarlette glared back at him and cracked her knuckles. She really hoped this wasn't going to hurt.

He stood before her, grinning his yellow, toothy smile. "Go on," he urged, swiping his blade across her upper arm, causing the skin to part. She bled where his blade touched. "Grab another weapon. There, that jewel encrusted sword with the silver blade. That will do just fine." Scarlette eyed it and reached. He snapped his blade against her hand, more blood welling up. "Too slow, lass."

"Fuck off," she growled. "Just kill me, if you're going to."

"Oh?" he laughed. "I don't like your smart mouth." He whittled down her other arm, three bright red gashes made by his blade oozing into sight. She flinched but gritted her teeth and took the damage.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, his voice growing deeper. "It's not like you to just give up?"

"Let them go," she whispered. His eyes narrowed.

"Pardon?"

"Let them go. All of them. You can have my power, but let them go."

He smiled. "You've grown soft, Sparrow. I almost don't want to kill you, but almost is just not good enough to change my mind. So long." Time slowed again and Scarlette closed her eyes as the blade descended. She threw up her arms, the right one still a little numb.

_'Well, it's been interesting …'_ she thought.

There was a sound of metal meeting metal and her right arm buzzed, but not as if it were still numb. She opened her eyes and looked at what was in her hand.

_Aoi-rozuka_ pulsed with blue light and burned with power unspent. Barbossa looked just as confused as she did, but she was not about to waste such precious safety. She had forgotten about the blade strapped to her back. Lucky for her, it hadn't forgotten about Scarlette.

She swung the blade under Barbossa's arm and the cave was full of sound, not of vocal commotion as one might expect, but of water. All the lapping sounds of the sea against the rocks and treasure were magnified. The blade nicked Barbossa's thigh and not only did he bleed, but the wound hissed and bubbled, as a fresh burn would have.

Barbossa stumbled backwards and reached into his coat, pulling out an ancient pistol. He pointed it at Scarlette and someone screamed. In the next moment, Barbossa's pistol hand had landed in the water and there was a bleeding, hissing stump where it used to be. Scarlette's eyes widened. She had hardly registered the gun before she'd struck his wrist.

"Wh-what the hell is going on?" Barbossa screeched, swinging at her with his sword. She batted it out of the air with the shining blue blade and there was water everywhere. It fell from the sky and rose from the sea. Barbossa was soaked.

Scarlette held up the blade and suddenly felt … nothing. She looked at Barbossa and her mind was clouded completely. She was going to kill him and nothing would stop her. She wanted to kill him, he deserved it. There was no guilt, nothing but a cold calm. No … it was anything but calm. There was an ocean of rage behind her eyeballs and the crushing sound of it pushed her forward. She raised the sword and her party shrieked as the water around the treasure rose up and pulled the zombies into the water. The Lyandize rose from the pools confused.

The sword came down with a sound like crashing waves and Barbossa stood there for a moment. Most of the people in the cavern made some noise and turned away as the two halves of his body slid apart and fell to the ground. Scarlette's expression did not change in the least, her eyes flashing with a blue light. Her arm lowered and she halved the halves of his body. Only then did she sheathe the sword on her back, standing over her kill like a statue.

She turned to meet the eyes of Jack. "I did it."

He nodded. She smiled and collapsed. Only then did everyone notice that the water level in the cave was rising significantly. The whole foundation of rock was shaking and vibrating in quite an uncertain fashion.

Dacor stood, his legs having come back to him. "We must get the humans out of here! The island is sinking! Quickly, now." The Lyandize each grabbed a human and dove into the water. Even Bert and McMutton were saved by the mermen guardsmen.

Jack had begun to fight his way to Scarlette when he was seized by Dacor and Raare. They pointed up to her without speaking. Joste had the limp woman in his arms and was making his way down to the water. He slipped under and only when he drew even with them did Jack move along, watching the large Lyandize as he carried Scarlette.

At last, Barbossa was dead.

…**.**

Everyone got back onto the ships in safety, but the sea was a mess for miles around. A storm had apparently wreaked havoc on the island and the lower land part had imploded. The ship graveyard had coughed up debris and there was wood and wreckage everywhere. There was no possible explanation.

There were accounts on both _The Necromancer _and _the Pearl _however, of a huge wave coming in from God-knows-where, a wave that no one had ever seen the likes of before. It was too tall to be real, they had said, but somehow, it had passed all the ships by and crashed into the island.

"Codswallop," Gibbs had said. "Get back ta work. Stevenson, take a look at Scarlette. She's not awake yet, but those cuts could use some attention."

_The Necromancer _pulled up alongside _the Pearl _as best it could in the roving waves. They lowered another boat and who climbed up _the Pearl_'s hull but Sheikh Abu and Cob. Wedged in between Klow and Mullins, who came up next, was Norrington and Ruby.

"What's this all about?" Jack asked, lifting a strand of Ruby's hair and making a disgusted face.

"We've come to get Bert and McMutton and talk to Scarlette, sir," Mullins answered. "Sorry about … everything."

"Some crew you turned out to be," Morgan's ghost cracked, floating just outside of the hatch. Everyone jumped and he laughed.

"Don't be alarmed. I answer to Scarlette and she's on her way up."

"But she was just unconscious," Gibbs answered, eyeing the ghost with obvious disfavor.

"Well, she woke up," Morgan answered with an annoyed turn of his head. Scarlette appeared at the top of the stairs, still bleeding. Stevenson was following her around with a bottle of brandy, scissors, and a wad of bandages.

She allowed Stevenson to doctor her while she spoke with _The Necromancer_'screw. Bert and McMutton were ready to go, but _the Pearl _was not so eager to let them leave without some sort of payment for the crap they'd been put through.

"The crew of _The Necromancer _was hardly at fault for anything," she announced. "They have a sad habit of getting taken over by less than adequate or understanding captains."

"Which is why we brought the two trouble makers to you," Mullins answered. "Norrington's been whining that when you killed Barbossa, the power animating him switched over to you."

"Has it now," Scarlette grinned. She looked at Norrington, who immediately began talking.

"You filthy pirate woman! You killed him and chopped him into pieces! I know that grievances had been had in the past but really. Did you have to be quite that—"

"Shut up," she interrupted.

"Bar-bar-ic …" he was silent after this last word, his eyes taking on a different sheen.

"Ah, well then. That answers _that _question. Put him in the brig. We can take him back to Port Royal and have him at least answer questions for himself before we put him to rest completely. Everyone in agreement?"

"There was a loud chorus of 'Aye' as Cob and Mullins tried to drag Norrington. His feet weren't moving. Scarlette grabbed his arm and spoke again. "Go with these men and let them put you in the brig." Norrington happily went down the hatch to the lower levels of the ship.

"Now, as for you," Scarlette turned back to Ruby. Klow and Sheikh Abu gripped her arms painfully. She turned to Jack and smiled.

"This woman tried to have me killed several times while I was on board _The Necromancer_. She also frequently broke articles of piracy, both under _The Necromancer_'s code and _the Pearl_'s code."

"She teased me while I was in their brig," Jack announced. Scarlette shot him a look and he smiled. "She offered me just about everything, too. I understand where Scarlette's going with this. What shall we do with her?"

The crew chorused. Maroon was a very prominent word. Permanent bilge duty was another, among a few rather uncouth suggestions. Ruby did not look happy in her thin red dress, soaking wet on the deck of _the Pearl_. She looked like she was being auctioned off.

"What about you, men?" Scarlette asked Bert and McMutton. "She's driven you off the rocker as well. What would you have done with her?"

Bert started laughing but McMutton only smiled. "I'm sure whatever you come up with is fine and will probably hurt more than anything in our arsenal."

In the end, Scarlette and Jack called a vote. She was given permanent bilge duty, to be watched at all times by Pintel and Ragetti, or Sean and Tony, whoever was free. _The Pearl _would drop her in Tortuga with the bandits, after that.

Mullins and Cob returned to the deck and waved. "So long Scarlette," Mullins called out. "We'll be votin' fer a new captain. D'you recommend anyone?"

"Starks," she answered. "He'd do well … you could do it, too probably. Ow!" She glared at Stevenson, who had decided the gash on her arm needed stitches and had started without telling her. "Bye, now. Watch out for naval ships."

"You too, sister," Bert, with his half mask on remarked as he dropped into the boat McMutton blew her a kiss. Everyone else from _The Necromancer _followed him and Ruby was led off to the bilge to begin her duties. Stevenson made Scarlette return to the galley so he could sew her up in peace.

Jack smiled as his wife disappeared down the stairs. "I don't think I'm the only captain aboard this ship. Bring us around. We need to unload _the Bounty_, or at least take it with us."

"Leave it," Scarlette called out. Her face appeared out of the darkness. Stevenson was cursing, following her and whipping his apron about.

"Leave it?" Jack asked. She nodded.

"Just get the treasure and cargo out of it, and leave it here. I don't want it, and we can't really spare crew for both ships."

Gibbs made some hand signal against his vest and shook his head. "Leave an empty ship … that tastes of bad omens."

Scarlette sighed. Jack nodded. "Perhaps, but she's right. We can't spare the men to crew both ships. The Lyandize have all but disappeared." He looked a question back at Scarlette and she shrugged.

"My agreement with them is over," she answered. "After they brought me back here, they were done with me. There was a … problem."

Jack knew by the way she hesitated before saying the word 'problem' that it was probably an interesting story but now was not the time to get it out of her. "Pull us around by _the Bounty_. We'll clean her out as best we can, then leave her. It's fitting. We ruined the ship graveyard, now we'll add to it."

"What?" Scarlette asked, puzzled. "How did we ruin the graveyard?"

Jack looked at her, one hand on the rigging. "How much of the fight do you remember?"

She looked confused. "Not enough, apparently. What am I missing?"

Jack laughed. "That sword of yours has some interesting attributes. I'd love to hear how you managed to acquire such a weapon sometime. Now, you go along and get your arm stitched up. Meet me in the cabin when you're done."

She managed to look mildly exasperated as she saluted and gave a sarcastic, "Aye, Cap'n."

…**.**

Fun! Ding, dong Barbossa's dead! She sliced in half, his puny head! Yeah. It's late, so here's a page count. We're at 341. Whoopdifriggindoo. 04-02-07 3:00 am.


	14. Chapter XIII: Bad Blood, Monstrous Melod

Hiya. I've got Alice auditions in two days! Weee!

Oh, and it turns out Keith Richards WILL be in the third film and as befits tradition, I suppose, managed to perform every scene highly intoxicated.

Joy. It's Easter as I begin this chapter … I decorated an egg last night with Davy Jones on one side and the kraken silhouette on the other. I did such a good job on it, no one wanted to crack his face open. … Of course, who would want to crack Jones' face open? I didn't give him puppy eyes this time, however.

All right, time to start the journey.

**Chapter XIII –Bad Blood and Monstrous Melodies**

Scarlette was asleep when Jack entered the cabin. All _the Bounty_'s treasure had been transferred to _the Pearl_, and lucky it had been there, for the entire island had sunk, treasure and all. Now, at least, the pirates still had something.

The crew at the moment was giggling over the odd garments that had been in the cargo of _the Bounty_, probably left over from its original crew. The clothing was decidedly Asian and Kwan Lyun confirmed a Chinese origin, reading the characters inscribed into one such chest. In fact, Scarlette was sporting a nice cinnabar necklace she'd found in the captain's cabin.

Morgan had been put on permanent crow's nest duty by just about everyone on board. He didn't sleep, eat, or excrete, and he'd killed a valuable member of the crew. Scarlette told him to do whatever Gibbs wanted him to do and Morgan had no choice but to obey.

Upon Jack's entering the cabin, Scarlette, still fast asleep, rolled over onto her side, her dark hair masking her face. Jack tip toed over and lifted a strand over her eyes. She sat up and grabbed his wrist rather violently and had a hand already searching for a weapon before she realized it was the man she loved. She let him go and managed to look sheepish.

"Sorry," she apologized and stretched her back. Jack flexed his wrist and smiled, sitting on the bed beside her.

"I thought we were past you waking and trying to attack me, luv?" he cracked.

"Yeah," she answered, looking at her lap. "I've had a rough two weeks, I guess."

Jack cleared his throat and leaned towards her. "You know … I _have _been wondering …"

"Wondering," she repeated. "About what, exactly?"

"Things," he answered. "That ship … that sword … other things as well." '_Like Davy Jones,'_ he thought.

"What about them," she asked again, a little peek of impatience perking in her words.

"Well … _The Serpent's Bounty _looks remarkable familiar, don't you think? Does it not remind you of any other ship you've seen before?"

"Yes, actually," she answered. "It's built the same way _The Poison Dragon _was."

Jack faltered. "Yes, I suppose it does have fundamental similarities … I was referring more to the fact that _the Bounty _is encrusted with … sea life, as if it had lain beneath for a long time."

Scarlette frowned. "Yes … I don't recall ever having seen a ship so engorged with aquatic life, at least not above the waterline."

"Fine," Jack was frustrated now. "Let's not talk about the ship. What about that sword? Where did you get it?"

"It was part of _the Bounty_'s horde," she answered stubbornly.

"Did you know it had … powers when you strapped it to your back?"

"No," she answered. "I'm not even sure what happened was the fault of the sword."

Jack smirked. "If it wasn't the sword, then you've got some interesting attributes yourself. You eyes were glowing blue when you cut Barbossa to pieces. That sword … I think Unorna should take a look at it."

"No," Scarlette answered, glad she had already hidden _Aoi-rozuka_. "I just won't use it again." The last thing she needed was for Unorna to up and say, 'Aha! This is the sword of Davy Jones!'

Jack watched her face carefully and knew she was up to something. He just wasn't sure what exactly it was she was up to. He decided to ask.

"What are you up to, luv?" When in doubt, ask exactly what's on one's mind.

"I don't know what you mean," she told him, staring at the wall with a concentration reserved for overpaid secretaries.

He reached over and turned her face to look at him. "I think you know exactly what I mean, but for the sake of your false ignorance, I will elaborate. Since you returned, you've been constantly nervous about something. Every time someone asked about the ship, you answered their questions without looking at them. We all watched that duel and I don't think I was hallucinating, and if I was, Will certainly wasn't, yet our stories match up. That sword _appeared _in your hand. If it had not, you would be in pieces on those piles of gold instead of Barbossa."

"Make your point, Jack," she told him, her eyes guarded.

He smiled again. "Something is obviously _fishy _about the whole situation. I'd rather you tell me what's really going on, than have to torture the information out of you."

She laughed, a full-throated sound that surprised him. She looked him in the eye and pushed him away, standing on the deck and stretching her arms toward the ceiling. "You think after all I've been through anything you could do to me would make me reveal the information, if there _is _anything I'm not telling you?" She laughed again and turned to face him.

"What could be so important that you would keep whatever it is from me?" he asked, standing as well, walking towards her until they stood, inches from each other.

"If you wanted to know so badly, maybe you should ask yourself, dear," she smiled, going on tiptoe and leaned against his chest to speak directly into his ear. "Some of your secrets may come home to bite you, darling."

He clamped his arms around her, preventing her from moving. He spoke in her ear as well.

"Scarlette … I certainly hope that for everyone's sake you are not speaking of a particularly volatile secret of mine."

"Oh?" she feigned innocence. "And what might that be?"

She could feel him mentally brace himself for something. He opened his arms and she stepped away, taking a seat on the end of the bed. He joined her and gripped her right hand in his left, fingers entwined, palm to palm. There was a small jolt of power between their hands, almost like a static shock. It went ignored.

"Why can't you just tell me?" he asked, squeezing her hand. She gave a faint squeeze back and looked at the floor.

"Because," she answered. "I'm still trying to be mad at you for not telling me about something so dangerous."

Jack smirked. She was 'trying to be mad' at him. He'd try a different set of questions, then.

"Why did the Lyandize break with you and the other ship? And why were there so many of them around?"

Scarlette swallowed and then thought back to Joste. He'd tried to round her on the story, maybe she could succeed with Jack.

"They were needed to fight. The twelve Lyandize that were the _Langue de Serpente_ band were some of the most efficient warriors of their race. The Lyandize and Tyrnise are now at war."

"War, eh?" Jack sighed. "Why are they fighting?"

She shook her head. "I have no idea." There was no way she was going to mention the crossed boundaries. He'd come to the same conclusion she had, only quicker, because he would not have to decipher Grdn's strange speech patterns.

"Okay, so the Lyandize and the Tyrnise are at war … what does that mean for David and Lizzy?"

"I don't know," she answered with a shrug. "You'd have to ask them."

"Fine," he conceded. "But that still brings us to you being mad about some secret I'm _supposed _to have kept." He shuddered. "Do you mind telling me what it was, so that I may … refresh my memory?"

She stared at him. "Why is Bootstrap afraid of the ocean?"

Jack balked but he knew how to steer from telling information. "You'd have to ask him that."

Scarlette frowned. "Perhaps I will."

Jack was at his wits end. He had to know. "Scarlette … how did you get that ship?" He gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. "Please tell me you didn't—"

"Cap'n!" Gibbs voice shouted through the door. "I think you ought to come look at this!"

Jack and Scarlette froze, eye to eye. He released her and stood. She followed suit and continued to look up into his dark eyes.

"I will get the answer out of you eventually, but for now, we have other things to deal with."

"Duty before curiosity," she smiled. Jack opened the door and they went outside. Isla de Muerta, or what was left of it, was hours behind them and there were no ships in sight in the dark night. The sea stretched for miles in every direction. There was the sound of furious splashing on the port side, however. Gibbs and a few others were leaning over the railing, watching something. Jack and Scarlette wedged in between Gibbs and Sean and looked out into the ocean.

It was the giant skeleton that had once been attached to _The Necromancer_. Apparently, it was still swimming the ocean, eating sharks and things. Now it worried the remains of what looked like one of the merfolk. Most of it was eaten, so there was no saving whoever it had been. The creature was so preoccupied with eating its meal, it never gave a second glance to _The Black Pearl_. In fact, with the wind, _the Pearl _was drifting past it at a steady enough rate that in a few minutes, there would be no worry.

However, just in case, Jack turned to Scarlette. "Can your newfound powers stop that thing if it tried to attack us?"

"Probably," she answered. "I could sort of control it before … and with both of Morgan and now Barbossa's powers added to mine, it shouldn't be a problem. I haven't tested the new powers out yet, so I don't know quite what to expect, but I think I can handle the figurehead if it comes near us."

"Good," Sean whispered. "'Cause I think it just spotted us. It's freakin' out!"

Everyone looked back at the monster floating in the water and watched. It was making rather agitated sounding noises and thrashing about, biting the air around it.

Suddenly, something very large passed under the ship. The entire ship moved sideways, dragged slightly by the current created by whatever had just swum beneath them.

"What the hell was that?" Heather whispered. No one answered her. However, a horrible stench seemed to fill the air. It was the smell of the dead, the long dead. The men and women on the deck of _the Pearl_ covered their noses and tried to breathe shallowly.

The skeleton was screeching now and had begun to swim off in a frightened manner. The skeletons were supposed to be immortal. Whatever was under water was big or frightening enough to scare it and Jack certainly wasn't interested in meeting whatever 'it' was.

He motioned for everyone to stay quite and instead of standing at the rail, he knelt, just his chin above the railing. The others followed suit, the women having to, for the most part, look under the railing.

The skeleton had turned now and looked as if it were going to fight instead of run. It lashed out at the water, sending large sprays of brine into the air. _The Pearl_'s crew watched as whatever was beneath the surface circled. The water told what was happening very well, being fairly calm at the moment. The skeleton turned with it as the sea fell into a circular current around it.

Then, without warning, a gigantic suckered tentacle the size of a bus emerged from the sea and crashed down on the skeleton. There was a screech of anger and pain and the skeleton bit into the tentacle, not noticing two more that rose behind it to envelope it completely. With a pop, the tentacle-possessing creature dragged the skeleton below, whether to eat it or just for fun, no one knew.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for sounds of impending doom, but after five minutes, the sea was still quiet and no strange wake appeared to tell them the creature was returning for them.

"What was that thing?" Elizabeth spoke meekly, clinging to Will's sleeve for support.

Gibbs turned to face everyone. "That, ladies and gents, was the kraken."

There were a few gasps and Cotton's bird went a little nuts.

"BRAK! Calamari!"

"Cotton, hush," Marty commanded. Cotton shrugged and Captain Flint settled. Bob Marley, a brilliant scarlet macaw sat on Cotton's other shoulder. She ruffled herself and tucked her head under her wing.

"What's the kraken?" Sean asked, serious for once in his life.

"I'm pretty sure it's pronounced 'krayken'," Pintel commented.

"Shut yer gobs, the lot of ya," Gibbs hissed. "Legend has it that the kraken does the bidding of Davy Jones, Captain of _The Flying Dutchman_."

Jack turned and gave Gibbs eye contact. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that name while we're still in open waters. No tellin' what might happen."

"Aye, Cap'n," Gibbs answered, but he continued with his story. "They say the smell of it is like catching whiff of a thousand corpses, rotted ones at that. And the suction of its tentacles is strong enough to take your face right off. It's big enough and strong enough to pull whole ships down to the bottom."

"Any idea why it's here?" Will asked, honestly just curious. Lucky for them, no one saw Scarlette, Jack and Bootstrap flinch.

"Oh, there's no tellin' that," Gibbs answered shaking his head. "Could be any number of things. Could mean _the Dutchman _is close, or could mean someone condemned is near at hand."

There were several audible swallows from three particular people on the deck. Scarlette surged to her feet and gave a halfhearted giggle. "Well, I'm tired. I'm going to bed. Night, everyone."

"How can you even think of sleep after this?" Elizabeth stood before and gave her a very serious face. "Or have you changed in that way as well?"

Scarlette stopped and gave a very Jack-like turn as she refocused on Elizabeth. "Mind elaborating on what you mean by 'that way', Elizabeth, darling? The way it was stated implies there is some other way I've change in as well. Well? Out with it." Scarlette met her eyes, steeling herself for anger that would surely come. Will tried to take Elizabeth away but his wife would not budge. Well, she budged, just not in the way he'd hoped. She took a menacing step towards Scarlette.

"You cut Barbossa into pieces and smiled while you did it," Elizabeth shouted. "You just watched a giant squid thing eat a monster we had previously thought to be immortal, and now you want to go to sleep?"

"Elizabeth, make your point before I lose patience and leave," Scarlette sounded bored, if not a little miffed. Elizabeth snarled and pointed at her.

"You're as much of a monster as those men you killed!"

"All right," Scarlette threw her hands up. "That's it. I'm really going to bed, now." She stormed off to the cabin and shut the door rather forcefully behind her.

Will led Elizabeth off somewhere else and once the deck was clear, Gibbs and Bootstrap walked up to Jack, who gripped the helm nervously.

"Why do you think it was here, Jack?" Gibbs asked Jack.

"No idea," Jack squeaked, not moving his eyes away from the horizon before him.

"Well, aren't you the least bit curious?" Gibbs asked.

Bootstrap and Jack both said "No," simultaneously. Gibbs looked from one to the other.

"Well, this has been a mighty strange night … bad omens, all about." Gibbs shook his head and returned to his previous duty.

Once he was gone, Bootstrap and Jack locked eyes and had a few moments of looking very worried.

"Well, what do we do?" Bootstrap asked frantically.

"It doesn't seem to be after us," Jack answered his frightened crewman. "We'll continue as planned and head to Tortuga, then we'll head back to Port Royal and stay there, law permitting. If we can't stay there, we'll go back to Tortuga."

"Sounds fine in theory," Bootstrap answered. "But what happens if we're caught in between?"

"I don't want to think that far in advance right now," Jack muttered.

…**.**

_The Flying Dutchman_ breached next to the abandoned _Serpent's Bounty _and Davy Jones had his men fill the ship before he was sure that Scarlette and the others were not there. He stood on the deck of the derelict ship and stared at the notch his blade had made in the deck the day he had embedded it in the wood.

"Gents," he inquired of his men in a grand gesture. "What do you think this means?"

Maccus was the first to shout out his opinion. "She's runnin' from her debt. Doesn't like the idea of bein' stuck on our ship, I'll wager."

Clanker whirled his chain shot and laughed. "Bet those mermaids left her once the kraken started eatin' their people."

"That seems highly likely in this situation," Jones answered. "The Tyrnise and Lyandize are now at war, which will churn the seas where they battle. The kraken will eat well and we'll see if its diet of immortal beings doesn't change its own status."

"What should we do now?" Koleniko asked, the spines on his face undulating in the wind.

"We should take them down now," Maccus shouted. "Sparrow and Turner have had more than enough time. The girl bartered for less."

"We will go after them in 59 days," Jones spoke with finality. "She bartered for less for herself and I will not cut her precious time any shorter than that, even to satisfy curiosity. We will find out eventually why she left this ship here. It is not important enough information to worry about in the meantime. Back to the ship, men."

_The Dutchman_'s crew and its captain bled back to their cursed ship's deck and Jones looked at _the Bounty_, his beady eyes focusing on the swivel cannons. He raised his claw up and snapped it shut with a chilling sound. _The Bounty _collapsed inward on itself and returned to the deep, landing softly atop another of the sunken ships.

Jones smiled and turned to the crew. "Barbossa is dead. That much has been managed by our quarry. Our business here is finished."

…**.**

_The Pearl _arrived in Tortuga two days later, thanks to fair winds. It was about lunchtime when their gangplank hit the dock and Jack sauntered out, Scarlette beside him. Scarlette held a leash that was attached to Ruby.

Bootstrap, Will, Robin, Topher, Lizzy, and David accompanied them as they trudged through the town and into the jungle, heading towards the bandit's mountain.

It didn't take long for them to be discovered. It never did. Makeo had spies and outlooks everywhere. Although, for it to actually _be_ Makeo was strange. There were two horses. Makeo was atop one and Stefano rode the other.

"Jack Sparrow," Makeo sneered. "Welcome back.'

"_Captain_, Jack Sparrow, if you please," Jack sounded just a little ticked off, but that was mostly because Makeo always hit his buttons. He was one person who could really rub the wrong way.

"This way to the caves," Stefano called out. There were some weird looks exchanged around the party but no one mentioned the young boy on the horse. Everyone made their way to the mountain and climbed to the mouth of the cave.

At the mouth of the cave, Libussa stood and smiled, her putrid teeth showing in the light of day. "Ah, I told jou dey would come today."

"Yeah, well, just 'cause I'm not physic like you three loony women doesn't mean I'm not valuable to this camp." Makeo led Stefano inside. Stefano looked back at the visitors and watched them as he and his father disappeared into the darkness.

"Three loony women?" Scarlette mentioned. "I know Unorna has similar powers to yours, Libussa … but is there another here that can see as you do?"

"Not here, no," she answered. "But Unorna and I hab a sister jou hab not yet met whose powers are better dan mine." Jack shivered and Libussa looked at him.

"Ah jes," she smiled her rotten smile again. "Jou hab met her, haben't jou, Captain." He just gave her a look. She folded her hands and motioned everyone to follow. She turned and led them into the caves.

They emerged into the main cavern. Unorna was seated on her throne today and Makeo entered almost as soon as they did, herding a pack of children before him. The kids ran to their respective parents.

"Where's mother?" Keira asked as Will hoisted her in his arms.

"She's not feeling well," he answered, looking at Scarlette. What the reality of the situation was, was that Elizabeth and Scarlette, after last night's little confrontation, did not want to be anywhere near each other. Lizzy even had a hard time meeting Scarlette's eyes and Robin had not spoken to her since the incident. It seemed the women, except for Heather, regarded Scarlette as a dangerous and untrustworthy person because she had slaughtered Barbossa.

Unorna called out to Jack before they could up and leave. "There is something I want to test, for a moment. Come here."

They all moved closer and Unorna smiled. "Good. Now will someone who can travel in time and doesn't mind bleeding a little step forward. I will explain everything in a moment and no one will be permanently damaged.

Scarlette stepped forward and Unorna nodded. Makeo gripped her wrist and cut her arm. She hissed and tried to punch him, but he ducked away, laughing.

"Enough of that," Unorna called out. "Now, Scarlette. I want you to go forward, to the future, and return immediately."

"All right … any reason why?"

"I'm testing a theory."

"Is this theory going to hurt?"

"If you don't want to help me, let someone else do it."

"Fine. See you guys in a few." She gripped the emerald around her neck and vanished. She returned a few seconds later holding a candy bar. She smirked at everyone and looked up at Unorna. "Well?"

"Your arm, dear," Unorna pointed. Scarlette looked down at the fresh wound on her arm. It was still bleeding and had not healed.

"Oh, damn!" Scarlette exclaimed. "It didn't heal."

"No," Unorna agreed. "It did not heal. I believe that because Barbossa was resurrected, sort of, and changed once more, that his blood no longer has healing properties. It will still make time travel possible, but because he was a zombie and not a vampire, the magical properties changed. Unfortunately, we learned this too late."

"What do you mean?" Robin asked.

"I believe you used a woman named Kami to help you perform a willing sacrifice for the _Langue de Serpente_, correct?"

"Oh, shit!" Lizzy exclaimed.

"What happened to her?" Will asked, holding his daughter close, afraid of the answer.

"She is dead," Unorna answered. "Died from the bullet that took out Morgan as well. There's no need to ask how we know all this. You wouldn't understand the answer anyway."

"So … we really did kill her," Scarlette spoke, her voice not cracking at all. Robin shot her a murderous look.

"Do you even care?" she spat at her friend.

"Of course I care," Scarlette turned in anger. "But there's no real need for me to get all hysterical about it, is there? Will that bring her back? No. Deal with your grief in your own ways and don't question how I deal with mine."

"It's only because you're a monster," Ruby called out, smiling in her sickeningly sweet way. "You killed Morgan and Barbossa and will happily be rid of poor Norrington once his use is gone. Pretty soon, no one will trust you. No one but _other_ monsters."

"Hey," Scarlette growled, tightening her grip on Ruby's leash. "I didn't ask your opinion, and I am not a monster for protecting those I care about, even if it means doing monstrous deeds. For instance, I won't tell poor Heather, who actually fired the shot, that she killed the woman. She doesn't need that guilt."

Ruby shrugged as if she didn't care much. "Say what you will … they have their opinions."

"Yeah?" Scarlette turned to the others. "Anyone here have a problem with my methods?" Robin wisely did not comment. Will met her eyes and blinked, raising his chin slightly. He may not have approved of her rather barbaric way of getting rid of Barbossa, but he knew it had to be done somehow. David nodded at her and Topher smiled. Lizzy gave a weak smile to her long time best friend. She was all right with the _idea_ of carnage such as the kind she had witnessed in the cave, but seeing it and hearing about it were two very different things.

Finally, Scarlette looked at Jack. His face was serious, his eyes nearly black. An almost smile crossed his lips. If anyone in that cave wanted her the way she was, it was Jack. Of course, according to him, she was seen as an extension of himself in the Caribbean. He would want the weapons in his arsenal as dangerous as possible.

"We brought you something," Jack announced, taking the leash away from Scarlette. Ruby followed Jack, but didn't stop at the distance she'd held with Scarlette. She attempted to wrap herself around Jack. He gave her a dark glance, but Ruby was used to men not really harming her. She should have been prepared however for what happened next.

She hit the floor. Scarlette had merely toed the back of the girl's knees and made her collapse on the stone floor. She then took the leash and wrapped it around the blonde's throat, pulling back enough that Ruby had to look up at Unorna.

"I trust you will behave yourself?" Scarlette growled very close to Ruby's ear. "Unless you _want _me to kill you."

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" she asked, attempting to grip the leather leash and pull it away from her throat.

"You know," Scarlette answered, way past her limit for bitchy females. "That is an excellent question. I _should _kill you, I _can _do it. I even _want _to, and make no mistake, I'd probably enjoy it. But I haven't yet. I'd rather keep you alive and put you to some use."

Ruby tried to spit but the angle was too steep so she just managed to drool a little. Scarlette laughed. "You want me to kill you, don't you? I thought it was just back on _The Necromancer _and you wanted to frame me to die as well, but you really don't want to live? Why?"

"I don't owe you an explanation," she answered.

"Fine." Scarlette released her and gripped the leash. Jack had been speaking with Unorna during the exchange and Unorna spoke now.

"Keep this girl with you. She will be of some use later on, when you need to pay your way to greater information than I can give you."

"Well, for you that was downright obvious," Jack laughed. "Usually you're so cryptic we all look confused for a while."

Unorna smiled. "Yes. I must warn you, Jack Sparrow. Do not go into Port Royal."

Will was up in arms almost immediately. "We must go into Port Royal. There are those of us that have not been home in months."

Unorna smiled. "And there are those of you who will find that you will not be going home upon your arrival." She turned to look at Scarlette. "Always pickup keys to your next adventure, whether you need them or not."

Scarlette frowned at the woman. "Right."

Unorna stood and walked down to them, her bright orange robes brilliant in the torchlight. She moved up to Jack and smiled, her teeth in much better condition than Libussa's. "You're greatest fears are nothing compared to the reality that faces you. Be careful not to _assume_ anything."

Jack's face paled and Scarlette watched as his eyes flicked about before he regained his composure. She stopped in front of Will and Keira, who hid her face against her father's neck. She pointed lightly at him. "There are many forms of friendship. Take care, lest you think one is another." Will looked confused but didn't speak as Unorna moved onward.

David and Lizzy were huddled over Lenore and Unorna smiled at them as well. "Do not be afraid to fight … but take care that you keep your fight on land. The seas are rough now." David nodded. He had already declared that he was staying on land until the Tyrnise and Lyandize ceased fire, so to speak. Of course, there were always things that might be more horrible on land.

Topher didn't even get an esoteric message, only a smile, but Unorna stopped in front of Robin, who still looked pissed.

"Why are you angry, dear?" Unorna asked her softly. Robin sniffed and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"I am not angry," she answered to the contrary.

"Of course. My message to you is this. Love while you can, for loved ones are mobile and may not be present for long." Robin was much better at paling than Jack was. Her skin bleached and she stopped looking mad.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Tell me?"

"I cannot," Unorna answered solemnly. "But time is always of the essence, my dear. Oh, and ladies," she addressed Robin and Lizzy, mostly. "Strength does exist within. Just because you are the fairer of humans … or Tyrnise … does not mean you must always act the part. And some of you may do well to remember that feminine wiles go quite a long way." That comment was all for Scarlette, who raised one eyebrow.

"Feminine wiles," she snorted. "Useless, mostly."

Unorna smiled. "The Company is in Port Royal."

"Big deal," Robin growled. "They were there when we left."

"Yes," Unorna nodded. "But things have changed and this time, it is not just the toadies that have come to port. There are bigger fish with bigger agendas."

Jack stepped forward, ignoring the whirring in his gut. "My crew would like it very much if we had a furlough for tonight. Would it be all right if some of us stayed here?"

"You are very silly, dear," she pointed out, returning to her throne. "You and the closest of your men may stay here at the caves. Certainly, anyone in this room now is invited to stay. In fact, Makeo's ceremony is tonight. I am putting the rule of this small bandit clan over to him completely. We will be happy if you would join us."

Jack smiled fiercely at Makeo. Makeo gave a salute and winked one of his turquoise eyes.

…**.**

The night fell upon Tortuga quickly and where many of the crew was in the town, the main players had made their way through the jungle and into the bandit caves. There was food, dancing, and all manner of drink.

In fact, most of the pirates were having an uproariously grand time of things. Sean and Tony were very happy at a table with Pintel and Ragetti, along with some of the other members of the crew.

Pintel raised his mug. "Here's to fortune, and us gentleman what take advantage of it." There were raucous cried from the table and Sean and Tony nodded. Pintel saw it and pointed to them. "An' here's to you two, pirates at last. Officially, now, ain't it?"

"I guess," Sean choked, feigning tears. They had in fact received a share of _The Serpent's Bounty_'s treasure, seeing as they did help to solve the puzzles of the island.

At another table, much more quiet and rather abysmal, Jack, Scarlette, and Bootstrap had all sat, coincidentally, really. They were each nursing their own drink and brooding on their dark futures, and make no mistake, each was wondering what the other was thinking.

Bootstrap was watching Will and Elizabeth dance and hoping that he made it back to Port Royal so he could watch his grandchildren grow up. He looked over at Scarlette and his eyes grew sad. She was looking down into her cup, her eyes shadowed by her dark hair. She looked like one condemned and Bootstrap knew then, almost as sure, as if he had been told, that something was wrong, and it probably had something to do with the dread of every sailor.

It didn't take long for the bandits to get to their sort of games. They grabbed most of the pirate men and blindfolded them, standing them in a row with their backs facing the room. The bandits then rounded up the women, some of them pirates, some of them bandits, and paired them up with random men. Some of the pairs were pretty hilarious.

The object of the game was for the women to keep whomever they were paired up with while the male bandits tried to intervene and pair up blind folded men, while stealing their partners. It was a rather odd game, but certainly entertaining.

It was explained as the women looked at the men they'd been paired up with. Elizabeth looked pained to be across from Jack, who had already extended his hands out to help his balance. Scarlette was paired with Bootstrap.

"This is going to be interesting," Claudia commented, grabbing the hands of her partner, who turned out to be David. He started laughing at her comment but the music started and they were suddenly required to move.

Before too long, there was a loud angry cat noise from Robin, who was trying to drag Sean around. Sean was definitely not a dancer, nor was he terribly light on his feet, or on Robin's in this case. He made a sort of honking sound as a bandit smoothly intercepted, taking Robin away. She was not too upset about it. Sean floundered for a bit but was connected with Gibbs, who had been newly freed from Heather's grasp. Gibbs and Sean swayed for a bit but figuring out that they were not who … they were supposed to be, they quickly took off the blindfolds and sat back to watch the others.

Naturally, the bandit women were very good at this particular game. There were four of them in the mix, two of which were familiar to the pirate gang. Libussa danced about, leading a blinded Pintel around and making him look a lot more graceful than he would ever have been capable himself. The other was a tall, dark, and outrageously buxom woman named Ayeka. She was Makeo's older sister and had once lost a duel to Scarlette. Her partner was Ragetti, and somehow, two of the least graceful men included were doing the best. The other two bandit women had been paired with Will and Topher.

More amusing to watch was the difference between Scarlette and Elizabeth's ways of keeping their partners. Scarlette would turn Bootstrap and give whatever bandit was attempting a switch her back. She was not nearly tall enough or round enough to shield Bootstrap completely, but she managed.

Elizabeth, however, was probably having a great time bashing Jack into the bandits to get them away from her. Everytime there was an impact, Jack gave a little shout of fear. He was halfway convinced that it was Scarlette in his arms because the kind of strength this girl was using to knock the other men away was frightening. Either it _was_ Scarlette, or it was someone with a beef against Jack. Funny thought, that. Jack smiled to himself. Ironic that he thought it was either his wife, or someone who didn't like him very much.

Lizzy shrieked as Makeo intervened on her partner, Kwan Lyun, and danced her away, and Claudia was separated from David almost simultaneously. David and Kwan Lyun knew almost immediately that they had been lost and removed their blindfolds, jumping out of the way just in time as Kristin and Cotton flew by. The parrots were getting a little crazy, causing Kristin to let go of Cotton. She was swooped up and Cotton was hooked up with Tony as another bandit made off with Chelsea.

The next thing everyone saw was Tony running across the room, blindfolded still, with both parrots chasing him angrily. He ran right into the wall and fell onto his back, the parrots cawing in his ears and nibbling on his hair.

The bandit horn players stopped their song at the end and the couples froze. There were six left now.

"You all right, Bootstrap?" Scarlette asked. He nodded and tried to raise his head enough to see down his nose at her.

"It's about to get worse," he told her. "The horn players will take up a faster tune and Unorna will call—"

"Anything goes!" Unorna shouted. "Last pair on the floor wins."

Bootstrap laughed. "That." He put his head back down and Scarlette looked around as the bandit women went a little insane. Libussa tried to use Pintel as a bludgeon device but he tripped and they went down. Ragetti had refused to move and Ayeka was forced to defend him against Danya, another of the bandit women who had all but taken Will hostage. Will could move pretty well, even blindfolded and with his help, Danya managed to knock Pintel and Ayeka over. Ayeka flipped her long dark plait of hair and hissed as Danya laughed.

Rokell, dancing with Topher, was making an attempt to move Elizabeth and Jack. Elizabeth had been sort of backed into a corner. Scarlette charged to the rescue, Bootstrap in tow. He'd been pressed to playing this game many times when he'd lived among the bandits and was mobile on the floor.

Unfortunately, Danya and Will had decided to move in that direction as well. There was a grand collision of the four parties and a few people fell down … Danya and Will managed to keep their feet, but Bootstrap, Jack, and Topher all fell. Rokell tried to keep Topher from tipping but lacked the upper body strength. Scarlette wasted no time in grabbing Elizabeth from the mess and parading her out of it.

"What are you doing?" Elizabeth asked, a little too shocked to even fight back. Scarlette had already assumed the female position, knowing that the 'women' led this dance.

"Anything goes," she answered. "Technically, we're still in."

"I don't think that's quite what they meant."

"No one's called foul," Scarlette answered, turning Elizabeth away from Danya and Will's pursuit. She snapped the taller woman back to her and began a sort of chassé towards the others.

"But isn't this cheating?" Elizabeth called out, following Scarlette.

"Maybe," Scarlette grinned. "Hang on, and whatever you do, don't let your butt touch the ground."

"What?" Elizabeth asked incredulously as the other couple passed. Scarlette laughed as she swung out away from Elizabeth and hooked a leg around Will's bent knee, taking it out from under him. She pulled herself back up before Elizabeth lost balance and fell. Will however, went down and almost took Danya with him. The bandit woman glared at Elizabeth and Scarlette and took a seat.

There were cheers from one side of the room, mostly male cheers. Unorna clapped, laughing as she motioned the two women over to her.

"Marvelously done, dears. Anything goes indeed. I don't think I've seen something that entertaining in a long while. Jack … Will … your women have been well chosen if they can take advantage of silly rules like mine."

Will was still picking himself off the floor, his face slightly confused. He rubbed his behind where he'd handed somewhat painfully on the stone.

"I'm still confused," Jack admitted, looking from Elizabeth to Scarlette. "Which one of you was my partner?"

They just looked at each other and laughed. Apparently, Scarlette and Elizabeth were done being mad at each other. Either that, or they were drunk, a very real possibility.

Everyone sat down at the tables and a few people, mostly bandits, danced some more. Before too long, however Unorna announced that she was going to make the speech. Everyone sat down except for Makeo.

"I have been here for many years," she began, her voice carrying with little effort. "And I may be here for a great many more, but I feel the need to pass the leadership of this band on to a more capable person. My son can ride with the best and shoot his bow with more danger than any gun. I have the utmost faith that he will not fail you." She removed her outer shawl, a brilliant purple cloth fringed with green tassels, and placed it about his broad shoulders, the cloth looking marvelous against his nicely tanned flesh.

Makeo bowed to Unorna and the bandits started hooting and calling out to him. The pirates joined in, raising their mugs and chalices in a salute.

Jack looked at his fingers and wrists, knowing to honor the treaty between the bandits and his ship he'd have to make some sort of gift to Makeo. He selected a golden bracelet he'd just started wearing since _the Bounty _was cleaned out and walked up to Makeo, holding it out.

"Please accept this trinket," Jack spoke, trying to sound somewhat official but not really pulling it off very well. "To honor the treaty between your bandits and my crew."

"Ah, thank you," Makeo slipped it on and untied a bolt of blue fabric from his forearm. "And here is yours." Jack took the fabric, noticing it was a lot softer than it looked.

"But what of her gift?" Ayeka snapped, pointing at Scarlette. Scarlette managed to look confused, mostly because she _was_ confused. She swallowed her obvious dislike for Ayeka and spoke.

"Am I required to give a gift as well?"

Makeo laughed. "I suppose. I have no queen, and generally your gift would go to her, but since I am all there is … voila."

"But why must I gift you? I am not a leader."

"Aren't you?" he asked, rather amused. "In any case, you are his woman, and you must make tribute."

"Wish I had been informed of this earlier," Scarlette muttered to her husband. He shrugged.

"I only just remembered. Better think of something quick."

She frowned. "Or what?"

Jack looked nervous. "Or they may decide we forfeit safe conduct under the treaty."

Scarlette blanched and stood. "What sort of gift would be acceptable?"

Makeo smiled and she immediately frowned. He laughed at her reaction and shook his head. "Don't worry, girlie. That's only possible if you have no gift to make."

"Well, to establish whether or not I have a fitting gift, I need some parameters," Scarlette was looking a little lost.

"Jewelry or some sort of clothing … or some magical thing that may be used later on."

"Huh …" Scarlette smirked. "Figures. I do have something, although I never imagined I'd be giving it to anyone." She pulled a chair out away from the table and sat, taking her boots off.

"This would be more entertaining if I were wearing a dress," she announced, standing in her Chinese style pants. She'd taken to dressing with an orient flare after captaining _the Bounty_. She put one tiny foot upon the chair and rolled her pants up to her mid thigh, earning whistles and shouts all around. She then removed a vibrant green garter, unclipping it and pooling the warm fabric in her hand. She laughed, knowing the elastic garters of the century she was born in were still a long way off.

"Is this acceptable?" she asked, holding it up. Makeo's eyes darkened to a deep blue green color as she handed the garter to him. He pocketed it and smiled.

"The treaty has been honored," he answered, reaching behind his left ear and unscrewing something there. He pulled the earring out of his lobe and handed it to her. It was a jade hoop, a pretty spool of green that still held a bit of warmth from his hair. She nodded and returned to her seat.

"Well done, luv," Jack smirked. "Much better than my gift, and far more entertaining. To come close to your superb performance, I may need a repeat showing of it, perhaps tonight, in my cabin."

Scarlette laughed as she slid her feet back into the boots. "I daresay you'll need more than that to come anywhere near my splendor, darling." She threaded the earring through her left ear. It fit, even though she already had a pair in her ears.

"Uh-huh," he bit his lip in faux thought. "I daresay I will. Maybe we should test that theory." They locked eyes and Scarlette laughed again, downing her drink.

The merrymaking went long into the night, but eventually everyone found a place to sleep, whether in a big puppy pile in the main hall, or in a more secluded place if they so chose.

…**.**

Norrington and Ruby were both in the brig, occupying the one working cell and moping about. As long as Scarlette was not concentrating on pressing matters, Norrington had free will, and could think. This was perhaps not the best thing with Ruby in the same cell. She was proving that it didn't have to have a pulse to hold some attraction for her.

Norrington moved her hand away from his face for about the fiftieth time that night and finally resorted to doing something he had not done in the last few hours. He spoke.

"Stop touching me. I am a corpse, or have you forgotten that."

"I have not forgotten, but with so much power animating you, you are hardly dead. You have the power of three powerful necromancers behind you. It's as close to resurrection as you can get."

Norrington looked at her with interest. "And you know so much about this?"

She smiled meekly. "Morgan had a crush on me. He told me all the secrets of the trade."

"Is there a way to free myself of the Sparrow shrew?"

"Unfortunately," she answered. "No. Only true death will free you, and only she can lay you to rest, unless another necromancer were to kill her. Or, if you had been murdered, you could break free of her hold."

"I _was _murdered," Norrington answered hopefully. Ruby shook her head, her blonde locks springing in the darkness.

"You were killed by the ghost of a woman _you_ murdered … which negates your murder, because it was a vengeful spirit."

"Ah," Norrington nodded. He looked over at Ruby. "You're not nearly as stupid as you pretend to be."

"Yeah, well," she shrugged, hugging her knees. "Everyone needs a hobby."

"Pretending to be a witless whore is your hobby?"

"You don't understand," she answered. "No one does. And they certainly don't believe me. I stopped telling the truth about myself a long time ago, because no one believed it."

"Oh," Norrington looked over and turned so he was facing her without having to turn his head. "And what is the truth?"

"I'd rather not talk about it. It feels silly to mention it." She was still hugging her knees.

"Just tell me," Norrington urged. "Who am I going to tell, honestly?"

"You're already gaining from your masters," she smiled. "You would not have prodded a lady to tell secrets before this. Barbossa didn't care much for etiquette, and Scarlette's … such a strange woman."

"Gaining? You mean I'll be more like Scarlette?" he sounded so disgusted that Ruby had to laugh again."

"A little, yes, but not too much."

Norrington sighed. "So tell me about this self truth that no one believes. We've got lots of time, and I'm in a particularly dismal mood."

"Well, fine," she answered. "But don't laugh or call me a liar."

"Go on," he waved.

She took a deep breath and began to speak. "I was born to my mother, a full blooded siren. She put me on land, ashore in an abandoned rowboat upon my third year. My father had been a naval officer, dragged to his death by her voice. I don't even know what navy he was from … not a clue. I was raised by a lovely old couple who unfortunately did not live as long as they should have. My sirenic powers developed … rather quickly. One of those powers lies in … seduction, of course. The voice of a siren draws in men, mostly. Women are somewhat immune to it."

"What happened to your … land parents?" Norrington asked. She blinked and frowned.

"They died, because I did not understand what my powers could do. I was singing in front of my bedroom window on dark night and a passel of men broke into the house and murdered them, trying to get at me. I fled that night, and tried to seek my mother. It was not too difficult to find her. She told me some rather disturbing things. My powers were seduction on every level. I gained power from … intimate situations … in fact, the reason my song was so potent was because by that point, I was unspoiled, so to speak. My power was searching for eligible mates."

Norrington did not comment and she looked up, waiting for a scoff or a hurtful remark. He remained quite and listening. After a breath, she continued.

"I learned quickly that unless I took lovers at regular intervals, my powers produced a sort of pheromone that called all sorts of trouble to me. I remember standing in the middle of a village, not singing, not really doing anything, but there was a group of love besotted, sex-crazed fools wandering around, not even knowing what they were in love with. That is why I chose to ride on ships, with pirates. There was always a steady supply of willing men, and I didn't have to take too many different men."

Norrington nodded. "So the others think you're a promiscuous whore, but in reality, you've been limiting your numbers by sticking to pirate ships, and probably doing the men a favor."

She nodded and smiled, her eyes slightly tear-filled. She was so happy that someone finally believed her. She was even more surprised when he held a hand out to her. She took it and let a small sob forth.

"I need your help," she whispered in a small voice. Norrington's eyebrows went up.

"What do you need?"

She looked at him, and her face betrayed everything. Norrington suddenly felt very uncomfortable and sort of wished he wasn't holding her hand. "I don't think that's possible, I'm sorry."

"Let me give you a definite plus to the situation," she told him, all traces of tears gone from her voice. "Scarlette's powers animate you. If you allow me to feed my lust energies off you, she, in effect, gets drained. She doesn't know enough about her own power to know what's happening. She could be dead within a week if we aren't discovered."

"Really," Norrington was more interested now, but still a little uncomfortable.

"Really," she answered, drawing close to his face. She closed the distance between them, and let her powers do the rest.

…**.**

Jack awoke the next morning in a cave deep within the bandit fortress. Well, it was closer to noon than morning, but it was dark in the cave. The torches had burnt out during the night and had not relit themselves, fancy that. He listened, trying to hear whatever it was that may have awoken him, but there was nothing.

Scarlette was still asleep, lying on her side, her back to him, all that long black hair tucked under her head. Jack ran a hand down her back and she stirred slightly but did not wake.

"Wake up, luv," Jack whispered, against her ear. She didn't budge. Jack rolled her over and she groaned, burrowing her nose into the hollow of his neck, using his left arm as a pillow.

"I don't wanna wake up. 'Still dark."

"We're in a cave, darling."

"Don't care."

Jack laughed. "Fine." He put his right arm around her, the left still pinned underneath her head. "Although if we don't leave as soon as possible, the kraken may get us on the way to Port Royal."

"No. Still have fifty-seven days."

Jack's ears perked up. "What?"

Scarlette froze, slightly more awake than she had been. "Nothing." Of course, it was the sort of nothing that meant darn near everything.

"Fifty-seven days. What does that mean?"

"I have no idea," she sighed. "I was dreaming."

"The hell you were," Jack growled, whipping the blanket off her. She curled into a ball against the cold cave air and tried to yank back the sheet, but Jack had it out of her grasp. "Tell me what you meant and maybe I'll give the blanket back."

She glared at him, sitting up in nothing but her loose shirt and a pair of modern underwear. She crossed her legs pretzel style and crossed her arms as well, looking the peak of stubbornness.

"Who has fifty-seven days," Jack asked seriously. "I really need to know. I'm not going to pretend I didn't understand the comment and I _know_ you weren't dreaming yet. What's going to happen in fifty-seven days?"

She sighed. "In fifty-seven days … we fight … somehow."

"Why," Jack asked in a frustrated tone. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he needed to hear it for certain.

"Because," she answered bluntly. "Something's coming after us."

"How did you get _the Bounty _out of the ocean?" Jack asked in a very dreading voice.

"How do you think, Jack," she answered with her own question.

Jack sighed and locked eyes with his female counterpart. "You made a deal with Davy Jones."

She didn't answer, but her face tilted up, her chin reaching that angle that clearly stated, 'What about it?'

Jack all but fell apart, clenching his fist and gritting his teeth. He looked at the floor with abandon. "Damn. Then the fifty-seven days … is for me. He told you, eh?"

"And Bootstrap," she answered. "He'll come for him at the same time."

Jack looked around the cave. "We'll stay in Port Royal … I suppose you'll have to reinstate Norrington so we don't much have to worry about the navy. If you give him a long term command, will he carry it out?"

She put her head in her hands, feeling groggy. "I don't know. I suppose it's worth a try."

"Well, we don't have much time," Jack surged to his feet in the darkness and pulled her up after him.

"Hold on …" she almost fell. "I'm dizzy. Geez …" she fell to her knees. "I'm pretty sure I didn't drink _too_ much last night." She stood slowly and dressed once Jack had lit a torch. She was so tired, she forgot to mention that Jones was land accessible at the moment.

…**.**

It took a while to round everyone up. Sean took the longest to find. Eventually, he staggered out of one of the inner caves, covered in sweet smelling perfume, a silken scarf tucked into his pocket. No one asked what he'd been doing all night. He didn't volunteer any information and he was pretty sure no one wanted to know about it anyway.

Jack stood on the deck of _the Pearl_, his knuckles white with tension as the last crewmember boarded, and thought about how he could possible get out of this situation he had stumbled into over twenty years ago. Of course, he thought the word 'stumble' but Jack's vocabulary was a little skewed when referring to himself. Stumble actually meant struck a deal with absolutely no intention of holding up his end of the bargain.

Scarlette passed him at some point and he gave her a royally disappointed look. She opened he mouth slightly but thought better of whatever it was she was going to say. Her eyes downcast, she vacated the area.

The gangplanks were loaded, the cargo was secured, and Captain Jack Sparrow gave the order. _The Pearl _left Tortuga, as it had many times. Jack wondered if his beloved ship would ever return to the little island … would _he _ever return. One thing he was sure of, Scarlette would captain the ship if he were taken by Jones ….

Unfortunately, Scarlette had not thought to clarify, and Jack had not thought to ask … when _her_ date with Jones was up. Jack assumed it would be thirteen years from that point, plenty of time for both children to grow up … fifty-seven days ….

_Never assume anything _….

…**.**

Yeehaw! Alice auditions are over and done with. I read for Alice, the Mad Hatter, and the White Rabbit, none of which I put on my sheet for wanted roles. I didn't know until I read the part, but Alice would be fun. Exciting, hard to memorize, but we'll see. Others who auditioned for the show were Mullins, Sheikh Abu, Sean, Shane from the first story (if you remember the group of teenage boys Scarlette ended up with), Danya and Rokell, the bandit women. I think that was it … yep. As for who is who, we'll know by next week. Time for bed. 4:04 am 4-11-07


	15. Chapter XIV: Big Trouble, Little EITC

On to the next chapter, we go. I still haven't heard anything about Alice in Wonderland. Callbacks are soon … and this little pirate is learning to drive, finally. I know, I'm almost 21 … I just haven't ever had the time. But now I do, and I have a great set of people to help me learn.

-Mungojerry; Oi 'ope you ain't gonna go after any small animals …

-Jack; Piss me off, and I might just find motivation.

Anyhow, here we go.

Oh! Disclaimer update! I still don't own anything or anyone and any of my predictions that come true are pure coincidence.

**Chapter XIV – Big Trouble in Little East India**

On day fifty-five, _the Pearl _docked in Port Royal, not in the bay, but in the backwater cay, hidden by jungle. The small dock, used more for fishermen and small boats, was slightly more difficult to get to from _the Pearl_, but they weren't immediately accosted by the navy or curious townspeople.

Kwan Lyun had elected to stay in Tortuga, knowing his part in the revenge for Anamaria was over, but Port Royal was home to most of those not 'crew' on _the Pearl_. Scarlette and Jack stayed on _the Pearl_, as did Sharon and Joaquin, but those who lived in the sea town disembarked. Elizabeth and Will left arm in arm, Keira trailing on the hand of her mother. William, the younger, turned and waved at his two friends.

Robin and Topher, followed by Damian, went their own way as well. Damian walked off a little awkwardly, several odd bulges in his clothing marking where he'd hidden small souvenirs.

Lizzy and David stayed a while longer, but they too left, taking Lenore with them. The immediate crisis of the _Langue de Serpente_, was now over.

Scarlette watched them leave with a sad glint in her eye. Claudia, Kristin and Chelsea had left as well. Scarlette turned around and smiled. Heather, Sean, and Tony stood there, grinning their faces off.

"You didn't think we were leaving too, did ya?" Sean asked, attempting to give Scarlette a noogie. She flipped him over her shoulder and he laughed as he tried to breathe again from his place on the floor.

"Nice try, buddy," Scarlette was laughing now too, in a rather exhausted way. Sean had that effect on people. "But thank you for not thinking I'm a total bitch monster who'll claw your eyes out."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Sean cracked from the floor.

"You did what you had to," Heather added. "If you hadn't been so ruthless, none of us would have escaped that cave. I wasn't armed, and all the Lyandize were occupied." She shrugged. "I can do a little karate, but against zombies that don't feel pain … it wouldn't have been pretty."

Scarlette smiled. She looked than at Tony. "What about you? You haven't said much."

Tony grinned, finally pulling Sean off the deck. "One for all and all for one, right? We couldn't leave you alone with all these pirates, eh? Plus, there's free food on the ship."

"Right," Scarlette answered, smiling as her sarcasm penetrated. "I'm terrified of pirates."

Jack stepped up behind her then and placed a hand against the back of her neck. His palm was cold compared to the warm air of Port Royal and she jumped. Sean, Tony, and Heather laughed. Jack smiled and looked at them.

"Is this it, then?" he asked rather gruffly. "Everyone else has left, eh?"

"I guess," Scarlette answered tiredly. "Although, considering what may happen next, maybe we should leave them here too."

"We've got a long way until that's necessary," Jack answered.

"What are you guys talking about?" Heather asked, genuinely curious.

"Nothing," both the Sparrows answered simultaneously. They gave each other a look and Scarlette sighed. "Remember the … tentacle we all saw the other night?"

"Yeah," Tony answered. "Gibbs said it was a kraken."

"_The _kraken," two voices interrupted concurrently. Everyone looked over to see Ragetti and Pintel. They came closer, both looking strangely serious.

"We've been doin' some thinkin'," Pintel spoke sternly. "An' if dat krayken comes after dis ship, we wants to be prepared, don't we?"

"Yeah, bein' eaten ain't on my top three ways to go out, if you know what I mean," Ragetti added.

"What's your point," Heather asked, waving Ragetti away from her face with a disgusted expression.

"We thinks we've got some ways ta survive if da krayken attacks us."

"Why do you keep saying 'krayken'," Tony asked.

"'Cause dat's how it's pronunciated."

"Pronounced?" Scarlette supplied.

"Dat, too."

"I've only ever heard it pronounced kraken," Sean added. "Sorry."

"Actually," Ragetti piped. "It's originally Scandinavian, an' that was 'kroken', an' kraken's closer ta that.'

"Well, the kraken actually originated in Greek mythology, so if any of you know Greek, you can dictate how we say the word," Scarlette looked around. No one volunteered any knowledge vast or not of the Greek language. "Well then. I'm going to say kraken. Pick your favorite."

"Croiky!" Sean exclaimed. "It's a woild animal!"

"So what plan have you two thickheaded scallywags cooked up while you were supposed to be watching the prisoners?" Jack asked in his intrusive way.

"Oh, yer gonna luv dis one, Cap'n," Pintel exclaimed. "We gets a ton of porcupines from wherever and we sticks 'em to everything. The krayken won't be able ta touch nothin'!"

Jack raised one eyebrow. "Right. And you?"

"Well, if the kroken tries to eat us, all we has to do is make sure we don't get stuck by any of its teef, or nothin'. Then, when we gets swallowed, we just cut open its lungs and breathe that way."

Everyone was silent for a moment. Pintel apparently had no problem with that plan. Jack probably didn't know any better, even with the disgusted face he wore. Scarlette had slapped her forehead and started laughing. Sean and Tony were shaking their heads. Heather just had her eyebrows raised in Ragetti's directing, a rather disbelieving look plastered on her face.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked loudly. Ragetti looked a little hurt.

Scarlette put her hand down and tried to breathe past her laughter. "Let me explain something to you. Fish, crustaceans, and … things with suckers, cephalopods … don't have lungs. They don't breathe air as we do. Dolphins, whales, and seals do. I honestly doubt the kraken has lungs."

"What about sharks?" Pintel asked, honestly curious.

"No. Sharks don't have lungs. They're fish."

"Roight, dey are," Pintel growled. "I eat fish. Fish don't eat me! Sharks ain't no fish."

"Whatever floats your boat," Heather muttered. Pintel gave her a weird look as if he didn't understand the expression.

"Help!" a voice shouted out. Their attention was suddenly on the running figure, moving quickly towards the ship. It was little Liam.

The kid ran up the gangplank, almost tripping and falling headlong into the sea in his rush to get back to the ship.

"What's wrong? What's happened?" Jack asked. The kid was bent over, trying to catch his breath. "Come on, tell us!"

"Let him breathe, at least," Scarlette pointed out. Finally, Liam had caught enough of his energy back that he could speak. Bootstrap noticed that they were all clustered around the boy and it caught his attention. He walked over and waited with the rest of them.

"They took everyone!" Liam shouted, not even trying for nonchalant. "Grandfather took me and Keira to the mansion but I ran as soon as he wasn't looking. They took mother and father and locked them up. The Perkins' escaped but Topher and his wife have been taken as well! They also grabbed Claudia and the others!"

"Slow down. Who took them?" Gibbs was there now.

"There were horsemen, and a mean looking guy in black. They said something about a company of some sort."

"Company?" Bootstrap questioned.

"East India," Jack hissed. "Damn."

"What are _they _doing here?" Scarlette asked angrily. She'd had her own run in with the East India Trading Company. Her ability to speak French and her incredible small wrists and ankles had saved her, but barely.

"Could be any number of things," Jack answered. "Unorna did warn us, but there wasn't any other plan at the moment." He turned to Scarlette. "Can you use Norrington to free them?"

"Maybe," she answered. "But won't they know who I am?"

"Hah!" Heather exclaimed. "Not when I'm finished with you. You have actual dresses, don't you?"

"I suppose … is this going to involve corsets?"

"Probably."

"Damn."

…**.**

The returning members of _the Pearl_'s serpentine adventure had all sort of emerged from the jungle about the same time and made their way to town, Elizabeth and Will, followed by their children and guests going one way, the other two pairs going another.

The Turner house had been sort of commandeered by marines Beckett had brought from England, conveniently so, because they had wanted to apprehend the Turners and anyone with them upon their arrival.

They were seized almost immediately and Governor Swann rounded up the two children while Elizabeth squawked. "You cannot do this! Why are we being held? What are our crimes?"

Mercer was the … man in charge. As far as anyone there could see, he was not an officer, wearing the mercenary's uniform of black, but he did speak with power behind him. "What you are charged with will have to wait to be discussed until you are all in custody. I can tell you, however, that you are being held for questioning concerning the murder of Commodore James Norrington, and other officers of the King's Royal Navy, not to mention, association with known pirates such as Jack Sparrow, Scarlette Sparrow, Morgan Maxwell, and Joshamee Gibbs."

"This is injustice!" Elizabeth shrieked, her hair tumbling out of its pile on her head. "We have done nothing wrong."

"That remains to be seen, does it not?" Mercer answered. "Away with them, now. Put the women in one cell and Mr. Turner in another, please."

Governor Swann hung his head as his grandson looked to him for answers. Elizabeth called out to him as they passed. "Father! Help us!"

"I cannot," he answered despondently. "And damn me for it."

"Do something," Liam whispered to the governor. There was no reply.

…**.**

The scene was very similar in Robin and Topher's case, however not quite as large a scale. Their home had not been seized, but there were sentries posted outside the doors. Topher questioned one as Robin and Damian went inside.

"Why are you standing at my door?" he asked. "Has something happened?"

The officer he was talking to nodded to the other and began speaking as his partner marched off somewhere. "We were ordered to wait for you, sir."

"Why on earth would you wait for _us_?"

"That is not within my power to discuss, sir."

"Well, where did the other man go?"

"I cannot tell you that, either."

Topher balked. Something was wrong. He was employed by the Company and was very aware that the way things were run at times were a bit shady. This smacked of trouble. "You do know who I am, correct? I am a Company mercenary. Are you sure you have the right house?"

"I am under orders to keep you in this house, sir," he answered calmly. "If you or your wife attempts to leave, it is within my power to take action to stop you, by any means I deem necessary." He gave his rifle a lift to emphasize his meaning.

"You would shoot me?"

"If I think it necessary, yes, sir," the officer answered.

"Leave my home, right now," Topher shouted, finally losing his temper. He pointed off down the road where six men in blue and red jackets were running towards them. He didn't notice these men but he tried to grab the man in front of him by the lapels and throw him. The officer smacked him across the face with the butt of his rifle, knocking Topher to the ground. Robin looked out of her door and shrieked as they were quickly surrounded.

"What the hell is going on here?" she shouted loud enough for just about everyone in town to hear her.

"Mrs. Topher, we are authorized to take your husband and yourself into custody of the East India Trading Company and the King's Navy."

"Well, someone can damn well _un_authorized it," she snapped. "Because we are guilty of nothing."

"Shoot her if she struggles," the lead officer ordered. Suddenly, six bayonets were pointed at Robin's chest. She narrowed her eyes and glared and the leader bound her arms in shackles, behind her back instead of in front. They were treating everyone like dangerous criminals. Two of the other men carried Topher's limp form towards the fort. Damian peeked out of the doorway, watching them take his parents away. After the officers had disappeared around the corner, he locked his door and ran off towards his friend, Liam's house.

Or course, he only found about a million officers there as well and knowing nowhere else to go to, he ran back to _the Pearl_. If anyone knew what to do, they would be there.

…**.**

Lizzy and David were much better at getting away, naturally. The officers at their home tried the same approach the other two did, however, Lizzy and David incapacitated both of them after hearing that they were under house arrest.

"I suppose we'll have to go under," David announced as Lizzy calmed Lenore. "The ocean is big enough that we can avoid most of the war. At least we know our own people won't arrest us or kill us for things we had no control over."

"What do you think this is about?" Lizzy asked, frightened. She had never been in real trouble before.

David thought for a moment. "It probably has to do with Jack. No matter that we know he means well, he's still a pirate. Let's get to the shore quickly and escape before they notice the unconscious guards." He took Lenore's hand and squeezed. She looked up with large blue eyes and nodded. She wasn't scared.

The three of them fled quickly and made it to the ocean before anyone had even thought to call the guards about the limp bodies. Luckily, Port Royal peasants weren't terribly intelligent.

…**.**

Scarlette was laced up into a modest off-white dress with golden designs marching over the bulk of it. It was not hers, but something Elizabeth had left behind. The fabric was a tidbit too long, the chest area very tight, making her cleavage so obvious that the only thing more noticeable would have been a glowing neon sign saying 'boobs'. The corset had been laced tight enough for Scarlette's waist to all but disappear. Elizabeth was an inch or two smaller than Scarlette was and those small increments hurt like hell.

Heather had styled her long black hair into something very time period, very proper, and done enough makeup for Scarlette to fit right it.

"I'm keeping my boots," Scarlette moped.

"Did you say boobs?" Heather asked aloud.

"Boots," Scarlette allowed, not realizing quite how alluring her dress was at the moment.

"You can't keep the boots," Heather argued. "The dress is too long and you walk wrong in boots. We're trying to fool them entirely, not make a fast getaway." Heather put a pair of heeled slippers on the floor and Scarlette slipped into them.

"Wow," she spoke, kicking her feet under the voluminous dress. "They actually fit."

"Well, they came off _the Bounty_," Heather answered. "Generally the Chinese have smaller feet than European women."

"True, but they're European shoes," Scarlette pointed out. Heather shrugged.

"I don't know, but they were the smallest ones and they happened to match the dress."

"All right, all right," Scarlette stood, a few inches taller now, and walked around in the dress. The corset forced her posture absolutely straight and hurt less when she was standing.

"Okay, let's get this over with," she growled, shaking her head tiredly. There were a few delicate curls that bounced about her ears, along with dangling pearl earrings Heather had unearthed from a chest in the hold. When Scarlette exited the cabin, there was a hush from the pirates aboard.

"Wow," Sean and Tony said at the same time.

"I take it the disguise will work?" Scarlette asked, smiling softly.

Gibbs tried to talk, but a string of unintelligible sounds fell out of his mouth. He turned around and tried to busy himself with something but he dropped whatever it was he'd picked up.

"Let me go! I can walk, you oafs," Norrington's voice came from below. Ragetti and Pintel dragged him from below and set him in front of Jack, who blinked and shook himself as if he'd been somewhere else. Scarlette had a feeling 'somewhere else' was probably in the vicinity of her chest region.

"How would you like to help free Elizabeth from jail, Commodore?" Jack asked, unnaturally cheery.

"And why would I want to do that?" Norrington asked, full of contempt. "She wasn't too upset to see me dead, now, was she?"

"If you don't want to help her, then I'm sure I can persuade you," Scarlette spoke, looking out at the water. She'd turned, incidentally giving only her shoulder and the vaguest profile.

Norrington turned and saw not Scarlette, but a dark haired woman in a pale dress and he, of course, jumped to conclusions.

"Who is this woman? Let her go, immediately," he struggled against the hands of Ragetti and Pintel but they held on steadily. Scarlette looked over her shoulder, her mouth colored a delicate pink. Norrington's breath caught in his throat.

"Oh, it's only you," he frowned. "I suppose I have no choice, then, do I?"

"We don't know why they're being held," Scarlette told him. "We're going to find out."

"What's your point?"

She smiled. "You are going to help us. You and I will go to Fort Charles. You will introduce me as your French cousin, Yvette, and then you will ask the questions I want you to ask while I stand in the background, pretending I don't speak much English, understand?"

He nodded angrily. "You weren't thinking of parading me into town this way, were you?" He was covered in blood and grime and his hair was tangled.

"Nope. Heather and a few others are going to fix you up before we head into town."

"What? Ack!" Pintel and Ragetti dragged Norrington below decks again as Heather, Sean, and Tony descended after them.

Bootstrap waited until they had gone to comment on Scarlette's appearance. "It's lovely to look at, and that's rather mild at that, but will it keep them from recognizing you?"

"All the sketches in town are of me with my hair down and aren't very good. Jack is much better press. The few that are in color, show me with brown hair, not black. I'm taller in these shoes, and on the arm of the Commodore of assholes, no one's going to question me."

"How can we be sure that he'll ask the right questions?" Gibbs asked, finally speaking English.

Scarlette grinned. "I've figured something out. My power is what animates him … because of that, I can manage a mind to mind connection. Basically, I'll ask the question in his head, and he'll repeat it. He has no choice."

"Have you tested this little theory?" Jack asked, trying to keep his eyes on her face.

She shrugged. "I can right now." She concentrated for a moment and everyone was quiet, as if they were trying to hear what she was doing. She opened her eyes and a few moments later, Tony emerged, looking confused.

"I was told to tell you guys … word for word … 'It works, now leave me alone.'" He scratched his head.

"Thanks," Scarlette answered. He looked even more confused as he went back down the stairs.

"Well, that answers that question," Bootstrap muttered.

Jack moved in closer to her, noticing now that they were almost the same height with whatever shoes she was wearing under the dress. He touched the earrings softly, and taking in the whole picture, raised an eyebrow and shook his head. He met her eyes and a smirk graced his face.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, smiling as well.

His smirk turned into a grin. "I'd rather not say out loud."

She laughed loudly but stopped immediately, clutching her stomach. "Ouch. Let's not make me laugh today, all right?" She stumbled and had to lean against the mast before she could see straight again. "Damn. Those stairs are going to be a bitch."

"I suppose you're going to require my assistance," a very annoyed voice rang out. Jack, Gibbs, Bootstrap, and Scarlette looked over at Norrington, who had just emerged from below. There wasn't much they could do about not having a wig for him, but Heather had brushed out his dark hair and left it free about his face. He wore a coat of orient cut, a dark green color. The shirt was white and European with enough frills to make anyone from England happy. The vest was nondescript and brown. The pants were a bit of a problem. The only pants in decent shape that fit him were bright green silk and had been tucked into a pair of knee-high brown boots.

"Not bad … the pants are a little flashy," Scarlette answered.

"I look like a clown."

"You look fine. Let's go, before I pass out."

…**.**

Cutler Beckett, excuse me, _Lord_, sat at his desk, Mercer standing patiently at his side, and waited for first word of the prisoners. He was thoroughly surprised when Murtogg and Mullroy in their new Company marine uniforms entered the room in a flurry of nervousness.

"Lord B-Beckett, sir?" Murtogg stammered. "Th-there's someone here to see you."

Beckett sighed. "Did you happen to catch a name before you stumbled off to tell me about it?"

Mullroy spared his friend a glance before moving on. "You won't believe it, sir. So we'd figured we'd just tell you they were here."

Beckett glared at the two men in red and finally sighed. "Send them in, whoever they happen to be."

"Very well, sir," they answered dually and both turned for the door, knocking into each other before they could get out the door.

"Is everyone employed here before we arrived that stupid?" Mercer asked.

"No," Beckett answered. "But they're all nearly as nervous."

"Who do you think your visitor is?" Mercer asked.

"I haven't the slightest clue," Beckett answered.

The door opened and in walked Norrington and a lovely woman in a white dress. The door shut behind them and Norrington fixed an eye on Beckett. "Why are you in my office?"

Beckett laughed, not something he did often. "You're alive, and … dressed in a most peculiar fashion, if I may remark." His eyes slid to Scarlette for a moment, then back to Norrington as if he hadn't seen her.

"Rumors of my death were largely misconstrued, and I had to catch a ride on a passing ship. These clothes were all that was available and you have no idea what it took to finally get them to bring me anywhere."

Scarlette, alias Yvette, had turned and was examining a map on the far wall that was in the process of completion. Her back was facing all the men, and yet she had all their attention, for various different reasons. Norrington turned to her because he could feel the pull of her power. Beckett wondered who she was, and Mercer … well, an attractive woman usually got his glance without much trouble.

"Who is this young woman?" Beckett asked with faint interest. Scarlette did not turn, as if she had not heard.

"She is my cousin, Yvette. Unfortunately, she does not speak English."

Scarlette turned upon the hearing of her assumed name and looked confused. The men nodded at her and she smiled brightly, nodding back.

Beckett was only slightly distracted. He had a stronger will than most. He turned back to Norrington and bade him to sit. Mercer drifted over to where Scarlette was examining shelves now. She could feel him behind her, like a burning shadow. She tried to ignore him as best she could while she pretended to look around at things.

"Unfortunately, this is now my office," Beckett answered the previous question. "However, I am sure we can work something out. You see, I've been put in charge of the disciplinary functions of Port Royal."

"I had heard something about that," Norrington nodded, playacting. "I'd also heard that you'd taken several individuals into custody. Do you mind telling me why?"

"Gladly," Beckett answered, pouring himself and Norrington wine from a fancy looking crystal bottle. "It's rather ironic. We brought them in to question them about your murder, but here you stand."

"Yes," Norrington agreed. "I … am alive, as you can see. There's no reason to keep the individuals locked up, then?"

Beckett smiled and sipped his wine. "Pretty to think so, but unfortunately for them, they _have _been associating with several known pirates and many of them are connected with multiple escapes by Jack Sparrow and others." He smiled. "We cannot let them go and many of their crimes are punishable by death."

Norrington flinched and clapped a hand to his ear. He laughed nervously and explained himself. "I'm sorry … I spent part of my unfortunate journey home adrift and my ears have not fared well. Sharp pains are common." What had really happened instead of this cover story was Scarlette's reaction to the news. She had shouted in anger but not aloud. Norrington 'heard' it, and felt the effects. It _was_ painful.

Norrington composed himself and started talking again. "You're going to execute them, then?"

Beckett smiled again. He seemed to do that a lot, small smiles that meant nothing and everything in one expression. "That is the law, however, their situation is negotiable."

"Negotiable, how?" Norrington asked before Scarlette could prompt him.

Beckett blinked slowly. "What would you say if I told you I had a way to clear the Caribbean and perhaps the world of pirates?"

Norrington cleared his throat and fought not to look at the pirate behind him. Scarlette had moved around the room, examining wall hangings and everything else. Mercer had all but glued himself to her shoulder, offering small explanations. She would smile once in a while but never spoke.

"How would you do that?" Norrington asked, trying not to show any strange emotion. He was happy about this development but he could taste Scarlette's rage. "Surely not again with the _Langue de Serpente_? You know it wouldn't work."

"Now that is my little secret," he drank some more of his beverage and inhaled deeply. "And the negotiable part of our holding onto those condemned prisoners relies on those not yet captured."

"Who has not yet been captured?"

Beckett opened a leather bound folder, as if he had been waiting for the question. "David and Elizabeth Perkins, Jack and Scarlette Sparrow, Joshamee Gibbs, William Turner Sr., and a number of others, mostly pirates, a few acquaintances no one knows the last names of. The prisoners are highly uncooperative."

"Understandable," Norrington added. "However, I still don't understand the situation. How is their position _negotiable_?"

"All in due time," Beckett answered. "Let's just say their sentence will not be carried out immediately. I am in need of a particular object that may be traded for their freedom."

"What object?" Both Norrington and Scarlette were thinking he wanted the idol. He hadn't said that he wouldn't be trying the adventure they had just finished, after all.

Beckett looked at Norrington. "My, you've become direct since the last time I met you. I am searching for an object that possesses certain magical properties that will allow me to find something."

Scarlette was getting frustrated. Beckett wasn't going to give out the information and she didn't know what questions to ask. Her eyes lighted on a piece of fabric on Beckett's deck. It was brown and aged looking but there was something dark burned onto the surface of it. She couldn't risk paying too much attention to anything in sight of Beckett. She could already tell he'd be a real pain in the ass.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness passed over her and she wavered. Mercer put a hand on her shoulder to steady her and she met his eyes. They were deep and scary and she made it a personal vow never to be alone with the man.

"Your man is making my cousin nervous," Norrington spoke, looking at them. The expression on his face was bored. He had some control, but he was Scarlette's puppet for the most part, and he was indeed bored.

"Mr. Mercer," Beckett addressed the dark man. "Please go down to the jail and have them bring up Mr. Turner. I have issues to discuss with him." Mercer left immediately and Scarlette could finally breathe, as well as the corset would allow, anyway.

"What has William Turner to do with this?"

"He is the most honorable of the bunch. It will not be difficult to get him to agree to anything. I want him to recover something for me."

"This mystery object?"

"How perceptive of you?" Beckett smiled. He looked over at Scarlette, who had finally settled onto one of the decorative couches. She was looking out the window now and Beckett found his eyes wandering.

"Where is the object of interest?" Norrington asked in a rather bored voice. He noticed Beckett's lack of attention.

Beckett, though he had been concentrating on a very different 'object of interest' was able to answer without a blink. "Why, it is with one of the most notorious pirates of this day," he turned back to face Norrington. "Captain Jack Sparrow."

Scarlette stood and once again had the attention of both men. Her face was blank and she almost fell due to a rush of dizziness, but she managed to keep her feet, walking to the window to watch the traffic in the harbor below. After waiting until the cadences of their voices returned, she began to wander around the room again.

Before long, she came back to that cloth. She _had_ to know what it was. It seemed so important for some reason. She sent a new set of objectives Norrington's way and like a good little zombie, he followed them.

"Have you changed any of the outlying cannons yet?" Norrington asked. "You were taking over everything, were you not? That includes defense of the fort."

"The placing of your cannons were excellent," Beckett spoke. "However, I do have something you will be interested in. It is in the courtyard, if you will follow me."

"May Yvette stay here? It will do better for her to not run all about. She is not very strong."

"Ah, yes. Women are fragile. She may stay. I trust she will touch nothing?"

"She knows better," and that was a warning as well. Norrington didn't know what she was planning, but he knew that she had something in mind that required Beckett to not be in the room with her. Once they had left, Scarlette waited a few moments before walking to the desk and picking up the cloth. It was rough but light and burned into the surface was the outline of an odd-looking key. It had a round handle and two prongs instead of one.

She remembered the words of Unorna and decided that this cloth was important. She did not have anywhere to place it, however, but her bodice. It was hard work with the dress pressing her breasts so high, but she managed.

She went for the door after this was done, but to her dismay, found it locked from the outside.

…**.**

The officers that brought Will up to Beckett's office had a key, lucky them, and let themselves into the office, rather surprised to see a dark haired woman there. Will recognized the dress immediately and was shocked at first to see Scarlette. He regained his composure before anyone noticed and asked angrily, "What is the meaning of this?"

She blushed, accomplished actor that she was and spoke in rapid French. «_Excusez-moi, monsieur. Je ne parle pas d'anglais. __Je suis desolée_. »

"Don't mind her, gentlemen," Mercer added, stepping in behind them and closing the door. "She doesn't speak English, a French cousin of the Commodore, who is apparently alive." Mercer looked around. "Lord Beckett and the Commodore must be out somewhere. I will see if I can find them. Remain here, gentlemen." Mercer eyed Scarlette before leaving. The door to the office once again shut and now Scarlette busied herself trying to avoid Will's eye contact. He suddenly spoke to her in French.

«_Qu'est-ce qui ce passé_? »

She looked at him and shrugged. «_Je ne sais pas_. »

They went back in forth in simple French for a few moments until the officers got tired of hearing them. They shushed Will and tried to talk to her, but couldn't manage sentences complex enough for her to do anything but smile at them.

She had told Will that she wasn't supposed to know him, nor him, her. She still didn't know what would happen considering their position, but she added the 'negotiable' part that was still a mystery. Will seemed a little reassured but not by much.

Beckett opened the door not long after that and nearly collided with Scarlette in her rush to vacate. There was an awkward moment where he stared into her surprised green eyes and felt the faintest of recognition. They had never spoken to each other, but they had seen each other at least twice … never so close. Scarlette made sure Norrington was leaving immediately. Beckett was too observant to stay long. He would notice the cloth's absence almost as soon as he stopped ogling Scarlette's décolletage.

As she and Norrington walked down the hallway, several officers nodded to them. Apparently, the news of the Commodore being alive and well had spread quickly. No one of importance gave Scarlette more than a surprised glance, but as they neared the exit, she spotted Gillette coming up the stairs.

She whipped out a fan, brought along just for this purpose. Gillette had a thing for dark haired women and if he scrutinized Scarlette too carefully, the jig would be up, especially since he'd seen her recently with dark hair.

So she hung onto the former Commodore's arm and covered her face with the petite fan, letting only her green eyes bat coquettishly above the lace. Gillette completely ignored Norrington and stared into those green eyes, nearly running into a wall as he passed them. Scarlette guided Norrington quickly out of the fort and back towards the ship. The oddest moment was getting back into the jungle without strange looks.

They managed however, and once hidden by the trees, Scarlette released Norrington's arm and started walking in a rather labored fashion.

"I bloody hate corsets," she growled. "They're not bad looking. The little black one I wear to hold the hem of my shirts down is great … but these ones that force my body shape into Elizabeth's body shape are not my friend."

"I wouldn't know," Norrington answered in a bored tone.

"I could always force you into one," she smirked, looking over at him.

"You wouldn't dare," Norrington narrowed his eyes at her.

"Don't tempt me."

…**.**

After Scarlette had gotten rid of the accursed outfit, she appeared in more comfortable clothing, although a lot more flashy. Her shirt was Chinese, red with gold embroidery, the small waist corset was dark against the silk. A long gold sash went along her waist and her black trousers, tight and made to fit emphasized her thin legs. Her boots were black and knee high and the coat was very similar to the one Jack wore on a normal basis.

"Well, what have we learned?" Jack asked. Scarlette shrugged and looked angry.

"Beckett is here."

Jack made a face worth a few laughs and Gibbs let forth a wash of expletives worth a prize. Scarlette grimaced and continued.

"He's been sent by King George III to take over everything Norrington used to be in charge of, and some other things as well. He's holding everyone who went into town in jail. Before, it was for questioning about Norrington's murder. Since Norrington has appeared, they're a little less sure of that claim. However, he still wants to hold them and question them about your various escapes. According to the laws he's working under, he can execute them for having helped you in the past."

"Not if we blow the gallows up again," Gibbs chuckled. Scarlette shook her head and spouted forth a new barrage of information.

"According to what Norrington learned while I was stuck in Beckett's office, they've installed a guillotine below the jail so the remains will drain into the sea. It's also in an inaccessible place. There's no sabotaging those executions. We'll have to get them out of there."

"No, we won't," Jack growled. "They'll find a way out, I'm sure of it."

Scarlette turned to him and gave him wide and confused eyes. "What?"

He faced her, his eyes dark. "If Beckett wants to hang them for being associated with me, what do you think he'll do if he catches us? We'll both be all but burned at the stake and I'm not interested." He turned and ran into Norrington.

"You're going to leave them here, aren't you?" Norrington asked with obvious contempt.

"Scarlette; I thought I told you to put him to sleep."

"I don't know if that's a great idea," she answered tiredly. "We may need him to get us out of trouble."

Jack looked at her. "We're leaving this place. The British East India Trading Company is not nearly as gullible as Governor Swann. We will _not _survive here with Beckett in charge unless he needs us specifically for something. Set him free to his grave."

She turned to Norrington. "Well, go on. Go find somewhere on land to sleep and stay there."

Norrington's face twisted but he moved jerkily off towards the gangplank. He was fighting the order but he could not resist it. She watched him touch the sand and wander for a few moments. Finally, he stretched out on the ground and went to sleep.

The ground reacted to his presence and reached up with earthy tendrils to pull him below the surface. Soon, he was completely gone. There was not even a trace where he'd been. Only his footprints leading to the bare spot showed that he had gone there. Anyone looking at the situation would be thoroughly confused for no footprints led away from the site.

"Well, that was easy," Scarlette sighed. Suddenly, she was hit with a backlash of power from the stilled corpse. She hit the deck painfully and her vision went black.

…**.**

Will and Beckett's conversation went very much the same along the lines of their encounter in the second movie. The only difference was Beckett's cool anger. He had noticed almost immediately that the cloth was gone and sent officers out looking for Norrington and the mysterious Yvette girl. Neither was found but _the Pearl _was spotted farther out to sea and Beckett clicked.

He sat at his deck, looking at a wanted poster of Scarlette Sparrow and wondering how he'd missed it. It was, after all, not even the first time he had seen her in person. He thought back to the dress and shook his head at his own folly. "Such a exquisiteness, it seems a waste to have to kill her, but oft times the most beautiful of exotic creatures are wild and untamable." He turned to Will who still stood, and officer on either side.

"You may remove his shackles," Beckett told them. They did so and went to fade into the background like good little flunkies.

"Since I heard you and that flighty Sparrow woman had a little conversation up here whilst we were still turned around as to loyalties, I suppose I don't have to completely enlighten you."

"How are mine and the others' situations negotiable?" Will asked immediately. "She mentioned that and was very confused."

Beckett gave him a tight smile. "I knew you'd ask that question. You see, I wish you to go to Jack Sparrow and … acquire a specific item for me."

"Right," Will answered, looking bored. "You want me to pirate a pirate, is that it?"

Beckett gave him a strange look. "Not exactly, but if that were the case, you should not be at all opposed to it. After all, Jack dropped you off here, and upon hearing you were in trouble, he fled. He is not your friend, Mr. Turner. I, however, can prove to be a very valuable friend to you, should you choose to help me."

"If you tell me exactly what it is you want, then I may be able to help you," Will answered, not entirely reeled in. "But I will not aid you in anything unless my friends and I are set free."

"I see," Beckett was still smiling. "And do you include the Sparrows, those aboard _The Black Pearl_, and the former Commodore Norrington amongst those friends?"

Will looked stern. "Norrington was nothing but an animated corpse with a mind left over. We did not kill him, but he certainly earned his death. He sacrificed his wife trying to solve the _Langue de Serpent_."

"I know," Beckett answered. "Whose idea do you think using the wish to rid the seas of pirates belonged to?"

"You sent him?"

"I never told him to kill his wife, but yes, it was by my order that he went. What _did _happen to him, Mr. Turner?"

Will took a breath and answered. "He was killed by the ghost of his wife. When the spells protecting the secrets are properly performed, the last sacrifice comes back to avenge its death. We were being forced by not only Morgan Maxwell, the necromantic captain that was responsible for the death of Anamaria, but by Barbossa, newly zombified by said captain."

Beckett nodded. "I take it both men are dead now."

Will nodded. "It's been taken care of. However, that still leaves us in jail. I won't help unless it will actually benefit us."

Beckett opened up a wooden box. "I'm sure we can come to terms."

…**.**

It was late, nearly dark, when Scarlette woke. She had been put inside the cabin and covered. Now it was hot, and she threw off the covers to lessen the stifling feeling. She concentrated on the ship's movement and with a growl, knew they were moving, and at such a rate, that the water they ran over was deep. They had gone out to sea.

She stood and waved away the dizziness, steadying herself against a post. She grabbed a bottle on the desk and took a swallow to 'clear' her head. Whatever it was supposed to do, it seemed to work. She made her way to the door of the cabin and wrenched it open, surveying the scene.

The crew was calm, a few of them pulling on ropes and such, keeping the ship in line. She did not see Jack and it was probably better that way. She was not happy with him.

In all the years she had known him, she had never had such a drastic display of his self-preservative ways. She may have been much like him in many ways, but she did not desert people who were supposed to be her friends, no matter how much danger she was in because of it.

She noticed that Bootstrap was still aboard and she figured that if anyone were able to talk to her, it would be him. "Where are we going?"

He looked up. "Our heading is once again to Tortuga. There, we'll drop off the children again."

Scarlette's eyes narrowed. "I take it you don't just mean Sharon and Joaquin."

"Nay," he answered. "Damian and little William have made it aboard as well."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "So we're going to Tortuga … and then what?"

Bootstrap sighed. "I know you're wanting to go back to Port Royal. I too think matters could have been handled a little better, but with the East India Trading Company in the loop as well … the best we could accomplish would be to add ourselves to the list of prisoners on trials that would end in death. Beckett isn't swayed by anything but power, not money, not threats, nothing."

"So you would leave your son to die, because to help him would probably end in your death?"

Bootstrap looked saddened. "That is what it means to be a pirate sometimes. Beckett wants to strike a deal with Will for some reason … that reason will probably keep the others alive. They are all actual citizens, people he's supposed to protect … we are nothing of the sort."

Scarlette was even angrier. "Are you planning on staying in Tortuga after this?"

"It had occurred to me," Bootstrap answered. "I daresay Jack is contemplating it as well."

Scarlette sighed. She was tempted to practice a little self-preservation herself and leave them both on land in Tortuga, not warning them that Jones could walk on land. Would Jones go after the two of them? Or would he come chasing after her instead. If she waited until he had scooped them both up, and she hid on land then, it would be at least ten years before he could come after her.

She seriously considered it. It would serve Jack right if she took those who didn't deserve to be terrorized with him away from the problem and fled to some other remote location.

She turned away from Bootstrap then, unsure of her next action. She was on a doomed mission, she knew that. She just wasn't sure how doomed she was.

She looked up at the top deck and could see Jack silhouetted against the moon, his hands upon the helm. Anger passed through her body like a warm rush of air. Cowardice was not a part of her being. Just because things became difficult, did not give her adequate reason to bail on anyone. She was just the type of person who would stick it through and help a friend, no matter how hard it was to keep at their side.

The silhouette rocked in the sway of the ship and Scarlette felt a cold patter of rain as the sky let forth the precipitation. She realized she could see his face, now. The moon was partially covered and oddly enough, the dark allowed her to see more.

She was not interested in catching Jack's eye and so she moved towards the bow, leaning against the gunwale there. The rain grew heavier and she pulled her coat closer about her body, knowing the winds would pick up and the sea would stir as well.

She looked up into the rain, allowing the cool water to wash her face. Not all the droplets falling from her face were cold, however. It was the first time in a long while that she had cried, and as was her custom, no one was around to see it but the ocean. Her long hair flapped in the wind, the wet strands sticking together and whipping about like cords of something alive. She was not sure how long she stood there, but when she looked back at the ship, most of the crew had changed shifts.

The rain had really begun to pour down now, but she did not care much. She turned her eyes back out to sea as the waves became more tumultuous. She knew that tonight, there was no danger. The sea would carry them where they were going, even if it roughed them up a bit.

Some time later, she felt a strange disturbance at her back. She turned and found Jack standing there, not quite as drenched as she was, but still pretty damp. She immediately turned away from him and gave her gaze once again to the miles of rolling water.

Jack moved up against her right shoulder and spoke over it into her ear, needing to do a bit more than whisper due to the vociferous sea. "You were the last person I thought I'd have to explain myself to, luv."

She turned, trying her very best to hold her anger inside. "You ran and left them there. They're marked to be executed and we could have saved them."

Jack fixed an eye on her. "When I left you all those years ago in the clutches of ol' Barbossa, I was fairly certain that you would be fine. Such is the case with this situation. You said yourself that Beckett seemed willing to strike a deal with them."

"We don't know for sure if they _will _be fine there, Jack," she answered angrily. "Beckett pulls more tricks than any of the pirates he's trying to condemn."

Jack backed her up against the bow's railing. "And would you trap us all to save a few people that recently regarded you as a ruthless monster? You saved everyone by doing what you did and they rejected you for it. I was told upon re-boarding _the Pearl _that when you were left on that island, Will was most verbose against going back for you."

She did not reply but her face remained angry. The rain continued to pelt them mercilessly. Jack's hand went to her face and held her there for a moment.

"I want you exactly as you are," he told her, his voice mingling with the sounds of the ocean behind her. "And you and few others, I will protect, but not those on land. Elizabeth isn't worth it, and Will can take care of himself. Robin shunted you aside when you became too strong for her to comprehend. The others will go back to the future to get away from execution and they'll be fine."

Scarlette closed her eyes against the rain, feeling the rough palm of the man in front of her resting against her face, his thumb rubbing underneath her eye and feeling that not all the water was cold.

"Your fears are rational, darling, but not everything is up to you. Sometimes people have to save themselves."

"I'm not afraid," she answered, her voice thick. He smiled at her and cupped her face.

"Of course not, luv. However, we have our own pressing matters to deal with. Did you know why you collapsed today?"

She became instantly confused. "I felt a backlash of power from Norrington. It scrambled everything … and I fell."

Jack grimaced. "Turns out we've got a bit of a problem on board. Ruby has some … interesting powers, we found out today upon questioning her. Surprisingly, she told us everything, rather certain that we would kill her. She's searching for death, make no mistake of it."

"What 'interesting powers' besides having a voice that can draw people in?"

Jack smirked. "She's a succubus. She was feeding on you through Norrington."

Scarlette snapped her fingers, no easy task in the rain. "Aha! That's why I felt like crap, constantly tired. It's been that way ever since we left Tortuga. But that means … oh, ick."

Jack laughed. "Some people will stop at nothing to hurt their enemies."

Scarlette sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, looking at the deck. "I really should just kill her."

"Why haven't you?" Jack asked, removing a strand of her wet hair that had tickled his nose.

"I guess I feel sorry for her," Scarlette answered. "Stupid. She's bent on killing me if she can, and I feel pity for her. Something horrible hides in her past."

"Unorna told us we'd need her for something," Jack remembered. "I cannot fathom what that could possibly be."

"Maybe we can trade her to Jones," Scarlette answered. Jack gripped her shoulders gently and moved so he could see her face.

"No," Jack looked thoughtful. "He wouldn't be interested in her. True, she's half siren, and of the sea, that would appeal to him … but Jones only takes souls he can put to use on his ship. If the person runs or is of no use to him, the kraken gets a meal."

"So, they're killed?" Scarlette seemed distraught. Jack's eyebrows dipped as he frowned.

"Not exactly," he looked out to sea as she had been before. "If the kraken 'eats' someone, for lack of a better term, that person's soul is transported to Davy Jones' Locker. You've heard of it, no doubt."

"It's an expression that means the bottom of the sea," Scarlette answered. "At least in my time, it was."

"Not exactly," Jack frowned again. "It's an underwater purgatory where the … debtors of Davy Jones reside until God knows when. All manner of seafaring miss-happened men are stranded there."

"Miss-happened?"

He looked at her. "Darling, don't be pedantic."

"Ah, yes," she snorted. "You make up new words all the time. So … how can we possibly escape Jones?"

Jack blinked and shook his head, sending water droplets flying everywhere. "There is a chest of unknown size and origin that's said to belong to Davy Jones. In it, is something very important, something that once in our possession, would have to remain in our possession."

"What is it?"

"I have no certain knowledge of what it is," Jack answered. "But I do know that we must find the key to this chest as well. It is a chest of magical enchantments, and cannot be opened except by this key."

"A key, huh," Scarlette fished around in her pockets and pulled out the old cloth. "Beckett had this on his desk. Could it be related?"

Jack took the cloth from her and studied the image burned into its surface. The key sat there on the cloth, a dark image that seemed to have weight.

"I don't know if this is the key we need to find," Jack stared at it. "But it's important, somehow. Especially if Beckett's trying to find it as well." Jack felt the cloth and frowned. "Turkish weave …."

"What does that mean?"

Jack laughed. "Nothing really, only that it was made by a Turk, at least the cloth was. The image is burned into the cloth in a rather peculiar way. If you look on the back, there is no trace of the key, but the front is rough and charred … it should have burned through."

"Well, how do we find this key?" Scarlette asked, scrutinizing it. "Do we do like they do in the movies and show it around, hoping someone knows something?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but perhaps Unorna can help us. She may know if this is the key we need. As for finding it," he thumbed his compass. "I have ways of getting what I want."

…**.**

Chelsea, Elizabeth, Robin, Claudia, and Kristin were all packed into a cell and getting several catcalls from many of the men in adjoining cells. Topher was locked in one across from them, awaiting the return of his cellmate, one William Turner.

However, when Will returned, it was not with the guards as a prisoner. He knelt first at the women's cell and spoke briefly to Elizabeth. Without much delay, he stood and addressed Topher and the other girls as well.

"I'm going off to find Jack. He has something Beckett needs. If I bring it back, you will be freed."

"What is it he wants?" Elizabeth asked.

Will looked back at her. "He wants the compass. He has a leather-bound folder of papers called Letters of Marque."

"_Letters of Marque_," Topher sat up with a loud, disgruntled sound. "Why those?"

"What are they?" Robin asked. Topher gave her an indignant look through the bars of his cell.

"Letters of Marque allow the captain and ship that hold them to pirate specific nations, namely enemies of the country who bestows the Letters upon said captain. Basically, it's a licensed pirate, otherwise known as a privateer."

"Oh, yeah," Claudia exclaimed. "Ryo was ranting about them once. She called them rent-a-pirates."

"Basically, that's what they are," Will answered. "I don't know much more. I'm sure the person they're going to will know quite a bit more, since he's been charged with falsification of them in the past."

"Why does that sound so familiar?" Kristin asked absently. "Falsifications of Letters of Marque … I've heard that phrase before."

"Jack Sparrow?" Elizabeth shrieked. "You mean we're being held here and he gets off free and clear if he gives up that compass?"

"Pretty much," Will answered looking abysmally downward. "The high part of it, is that Jack won't get the Letters unless he comes back for them. I'm just supposed to find him and either get the compass from him or bring him back here."

"Tell me," Chelsea, easily the brightest person present spoke. "Do these Letters have any mention of a pardoning for the rest of us? If not, I strongly suggest you acquire some sort of written agreement that we're all to be set free. Us ladies can get away and take Elizabeth and Robin with us, but we'd have to toss something over for Topher to transport and we couldn't be sure that he'd end up in the same place as us. If one does not think too hard about where one wants to land, the piece transports to wherever it was made, or if it still exists, to that location."

"And since he doesn't know what anything in the year 2014 looks like, he can't land where we do," Kristin added.

"Precisely," Chelsea answered.

"My, what a bright girl you are Miss Russell," a voice spoke from the darkness. Governor Swann loomed out of the dark hallway and stepped up to them. He had since learned everyone's names and was keen to use them. "About the pardon, that is. I do advise you to return to your time and take the others with you. I will take my daughter, however, and we will flee—"

"Father," Elizabeth spoke sternly. "I am not fleeing to England. I will go with them to their time and hide out for as long as I need to do so."

"How long," Will asked Chelsea more than Elizabeth. Chelsea thought about it and answered.

"Two months should be enough time to figure something out," Chelsea thought some more. "We can look over the other films made after the first pirates' movie and see if we can't come up with anything that might help."

"They made more!" Robin shouted in excitement.

"Yeah," Kristin groaned. She sounded angry.

Chelsea explained. "In the year '08, all pirate and/or ninja fiction was banned in the United States. It'll be hard to get a hold of, but I'm sure we'll manage. The internet is a wonderful thing."

"Why was it outlawed?" Robin asked, a little outraged herself. Chelsea sighed in anger.

"I never saw the second or third film, but apparently in one of them, there was an Asian pirate lord or something. You knew about the stupid pirate/ninja animosity? Well, this particular pirate was _Chinese,_ not Japanese, but there was a problem on a national level. Those in favor of ninjas got a little zealous and blew a couple of buildings up …."

Kristen added to the story. "When she says a couple, she means at least fifty, all over the country."

Chelsea nodded. "Well, the US Government has gotten even screwier. They banned all fictional literature on pirates and ninjas, thinking that would put a stop to the 'war'. This happened after several pirates movies were in circulation, however, and it's still said that Gore Verbinski would make another if he could find a producer. Bruckheimer refused after the ban went out."

"Those are probably rumors, though," Claudia finally spoke. She laughed aloud. "Keira Knightley weighs like 200lbs in 2014." Everyone but Elizabeth laughed. She didn't get it. Well, the men didn't laugh, but it was sort of a girl's joke anyways.

"Didn't she marry that one guy?" Kristin asked. "What was his name?"

"Oh! The one that did that one movie, with the talking dinosaur and the gay robot!" Chelsea got all sorts of excited but she for the life of her couldn't remember the name of anything. Everyone knew what they were talking about however, save for our dear time locals.

Governor Swann, who had sort of faded into the background, cleared his throat. "Be that as it may, there is only _one _pardon. Even if you return in two months time, free and far away, you can never return to Port Royal until the East India Trading Company vacates our port."

"What if we just keep the pardon?" Elizabeth suggested.

"We can't," Will answered. "Only a captain can claim the Letters. It's sort of a blanket pardon for Jack and _the Pearl_'s crew, which includes Scarlette as well, unless Beckett's really that mad about being duped by her … I'm sure the five of you," he motioned to everyone but Elizabeth, "could sneak in under the rules as well, but Elizabeth and I … there's no real way."

"Wait … what did Scarlette do?" Topher was suddenly interested. If someone had swindled Beckett, it was usually an entertaining tale, if the trickster was not dead.

Will had the odd grace to blush. "She paraded Norrington about in a dress."

There was instant laughter and then Will, realizing what he'd said had to wave his hands about. "Wait, that's not what I meant! I mean, she got dressed up in one of Elizabeth's dresses and make up and her hair was put up and she controlled Norrington in such a way that she pretended to be his highly attractive French cousin while he asked questions of Beckett. Her appearance was distracting enough that they didn't catch on until _the Pearl _was sighted sailing away."

Topher was laughing then. "That pansy won't look at another woman for at least a week, cursing himself for that particular weakness, watch."

"Maybe we could live in their time," Elizabeth tried another idea, bringing the subject back around. All the future girls vehemently shook their heads and loudly denied the idea.

"You'd end up in jail by the end of a month if you tried to live on your own," Claudia explained. "You technically don't exist under the American laws right now, which means, if you were discovered, you'd be tried as frauds, illegal immigrants, amnesiac patients, or space aliens. Not to mention, you wear the appearance of two movie stars who were extremely popular ten years before … Orlando Bloom has turned into sort of what Mel Gibson used to be … and Keira Knightley does British comedies now … it would be a disaster."

"Yeah," Chelsea agreed. "We could hide you for a while, but not for extended periods of time. Especially if your kids come with you."

"Where are they, anyways?" Kristin asked. Governor Swann looked a little nervous. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

"Well, your daughter is still with me, but young William ran off in the excitement. My guess is he returned to _the Pearl_. That was before Scarlette made an appearance here at the fort with Norrington."

Will's guards were getting restless so he hurried up the conversations. "Time to go. Ladies, pick an appropriate time to vanish, perhaps when someone can see you so Topher isn't questioned too mercilessly."

"Where are you going?" Elizabeth asked quickly, catching her husband's hand before he could turn away.

He smiled. "Tortuga."

Governor Swann groaned. "Tortuga?"

Everyone echoed, even some of the other prisoners. "Tortuga."

…**.**

Another chapter completed. 4-17-07 … 2:10 am … Page count … 395. Oh, joy. I have a little more than a month to complete this, and seeing as my boyfriend just bailed on me due to … a lack of courage on his part … I'll have more time. However, I have been cast in Alice in Wonderland as the Cheshire cat and the Red chess queen. Wee. That'll be fun.


	16. Chapter XV: Sword Searching

Immediately into the next chapter! Forward, Bilbo! You know … I saw PotC chewable vitamins the other day? And bubble bath. What the hell? The scent on the bubble bath was sailor's musk. If you could bottle that scent, it would be very much worth an ick or two.

Disclaimers to everything At World's End related. Disclaimer to LucasArts, I don't own The Curse of Monkey Island adventure game, or any of the others either.

**Chapter XV – Sword Searching**

Due to rough seas, _the Pearl _did not dock in Tortuga until day 50. Everyone who was coming scurried about to land, eager to know what exactly was going on.

Of course, the main members of the part included our three doomed individuals. Once again, they stood before Unorna, Makeo, and Libussa. The children had been accepted once again into bandit society and it was assumed that the rest of the crew would join as well. Word had it; _the Pearl _was port-bound.

Unorna took one look at the key and dropped the cloth. "I cannot see anything from this object. My powers are blocked by something concerning it."

Jack picked it up and brushed it off, holding it up to the light. "What about you, over there?"

Libussa shrugged. "I can try, if jou want. But odds are, I cannot 'see' eider." She took the cloth and shrieked, dropping it. "No, no! I won't touch dat! No!"

"What's wrong with it?" Bootstrap asked. No one picked up the cloth this time.

"It burns our hands," Unorna answered. "We get an image, but it hurts so much to take it in, we can't keep more than a flash. I cannot breathe when I touch that cloth. The image is dark."

"Is there anyone who can read this image without hurting themselves?" Scarlette asked. Jack had picked up the cloth again and folded it over twice, hiding it on his person.

Unorna smiled slowly. "There is one."

Libussa caught her sister's eye and smiled as well. "Yes, dere is one."

Jack narrowed his eyes, pulled out his compass, snapped it shut and glared at them again. "No. Is she the only one?"

The nodded in tandem and he cursed. Scarlette and Bootstrap both looked at him in question and he controlled himself.

"Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Scarlette growled, not the least bit patient lately.

"It doesn't really matter," Jack laughed in a rather insane pattern. "We'll just stay here. We'll be safe here, on land."

"Jack Sparrow," Unorna exclaimed in a scolding type voice. "You have gotten involved with that one, have you?"

"De devil don't play fair wit' jou, Jack," Libussa added.

"This is not news to me," Jack growled.

"What do you mean?" Bootstrap asked. Both the sisters weird looked at him and then turned, once again, in tandem, not to Jack, but to Scarlette. She looked about nervously and nearly broke down when Jack and Bootstrap followed the gaze of the women to her as well.

"Goddammit!" she exclaimed. "We can't stay here. The last time Jones was on land was twelve years ago. He can come get us here and anywhere else we happen to be."

There was a moment of silence. Jack spoke first. "And when were you thinking of telling us this?"

She gave him a look of irritation. "I was seriously considering leaving you here to find out yourself."

Jack frowned. "Still mad about me leaving Port Royal, eh?"

She replied with another seething glance.

"Nice sword," Makeo remarked, motioning towards the blade strapped to Scarlette's back. _Aoi-rozuka_ had been taken out of hiding. "Where'd you get it?"

Libussa gasped. "Dat blade! No one is supposed to touch dose weapons."

"What are you talking about?" Scarlette asked angrily, resisting the urge to draw the weapon. It wanted to be drawn, _that _she could _feel_.

"Scarlette, dear, I know you've used the sword," Unorna told her. "And it may not be too late. Mortals really shouldn't wield weapons from the other realm, but there are a total of three in existence on this plane. Davy Jones, until recently it seems, had that one. How did you get it?"

Scarlette felt a little embarrassed. She shrugged and told the truth. "He gave it to me."

Unorna gave her a confused look. "Gave it to you?"

Scarlette elaborated. "Well, lent it to me, I suppose. I shared a little too much information about my … quest, so to speak. He didn't think I'd be able to kill Barbossa by my own power, so to insure his claim on me, he lent me the sword."

"Interesting," Unorna seemed to have an idea. "I assume you came to me in hopes of finding some way of defeating Jones and not having to assume the debt of honor. Perhaps I can help you. There are two more of these swords. Some call them spirit blades, others call them infernal devices. Those of us that practice the older rituals of voodoo have dubbed them the 'lost blades'. I believe with the other two, you three may be able to defeat Davy Jones. He is not mortal, and thus immortal weapons may merit you your victory."

"Where are the other swords?" Jack asked nervously. Unorna smiled, knowing his anxiousness came from a certain fear.

"No need for that, Jack. _She_ does not have any of them. _Aoi-rozuka_ is a weapon based on water. The other two, by name of _Tekagi-fukku_ as the earth weapon, and _Kuroi-agohige_ as the fire weapon are located within … special communities."

Scarlette waited for Sean or Tony to comment on 'retarded' pirates owning crazy swords but when she looked back to where the rest of the land company had been standing, she noticed that everyone but the three of them had vacated the cave.

"What kind of communities," Jack asked warily.

Unorna smiled again. "_Kuroi-agohige_ is in the possession of Sao Feng, pirate lord of the South China Sea."

Jack paled and made a sort of guttural grunt sound. Scarlette shot him a look and he grimaced. "Sao Feng?"

"Yes," Unorna smiled as if she were enjoying his discomfort. "Is there a problem?"

"You know damn well there's a problem," Jack answered.

"Ah, yes. And how much money do you owe him now?" Makeo asked chidingly.

"You stay out of this, sprat," Jack growled at the bandit, who merely laughed.

"Is that all?" Scarlette asked, exasperated. "You owe him money?"

"No, that's not all," Jack answered. "I owe him a great _deal_ of money. And I saved his wife from suffocation once."

Everyone was quiet for a moment and Bootstrap asked the question. "You _saved_ his wife? Why is that a bad thing?"

Jack had the grace to look embarrassed. "In Singapore, she fainted and wasn't breathing. Turned out it was the corset she was wearing. It was common practice of the Asian ladies. Bind their feet, bind their bodies. I sliced open the corset … turns out she wasn't wearing anything underneath."

"That's how you got in trouble with that other guy," Scarlette exclaimed. "Steenwick."

"Same incident," Jack nodded. "Steenwick comes after me with the law. Sao Feng is not so kind, nor is he as easy to elude."

"And we have to get that fire sword, what's it called?"

"_Kuroi-agohige_," Scarlette answered.

Jack and Bootstrap groaned. Jack looked at his friend. "You know she's going to correct us like nothing you've ever seen before if we don't pronounce these names right."

Bootstrap smiled. "I'm going to call the fire sword 'Cookie', 'cause I can't even begin to pronounce its name."

"Why 'Cookie'?" Scarlette asked.

"If you say it fast, it sounds like the word cookie is inside it."

She tried it a couple times but wasn't satisfied. Jack finally asked where the other sword was.

"_Tekagi-fukku_, the earth sword, is in the New World colony of New York," Unorna answered. "This means you'll need to cross into Atlantic waters to retrieve it. It's in the care of a tribe there."

"Indians in New York," Scarlette smiled. "My ancestors were from there. Which tribe?"

Unorna smiled again and Jack wondered if she ever got sick of smiling. "I didn't say it was an Indian tribe. No, there is a tribe of shifters there."

"Shifters?" Bootstrap asked. "Witches?"

"No," Unorna shook her head. "Lycanthropes."

"Werewolves?" Scarlette exclaimed. "They exist?"

"Yes, they exist, and in many other flavors besides wolf," Unorna closed her eyes. "In this particular case, the leader, or one of them, is indeed a wolf." She opened her eyes. "You two may have a bit of trouble with him." She turned to Bootstrap. "Perhaps you should take on that project and let the two of them entertain Sao Feng."

"We've only got one ship now," Scarlette groaned. "How long will it take to get to New York and find the weres?" She was asking more of Jack than Unorna. Jack closed his eyes and envisioned a map.

"It takes approximately two weeks to get to New Orleans … add a northern heading instead … about a month … We'd be cutting it damn close."

"And it would take longer to sail to the South China Sea, and Sao Feng," Bootstrap added. "That's a sixth month voyage around Africa. It would shave some time off if we could go through the Mediterranean and then through Egypt, but the Nile doesn't empty out into the Red Sea. We've only got fifty days left."

Jack was wracking his brain. "Scarlette and I will commandeer a frigate, it shouldn't be too hard, and go to New York. Bootstrap, you and Gibbs will head out to the South China Sea and deal with Sao Feng. Tell him, if I live through this ordeal, he can have my next eight shares and my next born kid if he wants." He turned to Scarlette. "Don't you dare have any more children."

He was rewarded with a slim eyebrow peaking on one side and a smirk.

"Jack," Bootstrap was indignant. "You and Scarlette are the only ones on _the Pearl _that speak Chinese."

"Sao Feng speaks enough English that you shouldn't have a problem."

"Jack," Scarlette touched his shoulders gently. "It will be fine. The Chinese would be angry if you didn't show up in person to bargain with them anyway. Go with _the Pearl _and I will go to New York."

"You can't commandeer a ship by yourself, luv," Jack pointed out.

"I'll take some people with me," she answered. "Starting with him," she pointed at Makeo. "I know there will be some customs I'll have to honor when I get there. Might as well take someone who knows something about it."

"I never agreed to this," Makeo pointed out. She looked at him and smiled. He smiled back, his turquoise eyes shining with unshed mirth.

"But you are, right?" she asked.

He made a big production of sighing. "I suppose."

"There," Scarlette looked over at Jack. "You can send me a few people as well."

Jack didn't look happy, but he knew he had been outmaneuvered. He didn't like the idea of Scarlette going out on a ship with Makeo of all people, but he didn't mention it. She would resent it.

"Great, fine, whatever else it is," Jack responded finally. "We'll load tonight and pick a ship for immediate relieving of duty. Six months …."

"You needn't wait nearly that long, Jack Sparrow," Unorna told him. "Sao Feng has been in these waters for some time now searching for you."

"Has he been, now?" Jack was nervous again. "And where might I find him?"

Unorna smiled slowly. "You will find him, Jack."

…**.**

Later, just after sunset, William Turner set foot on Tortuga, bent on bullying his way onto _the Pearl_. He spotted it far down the cay and he strode towards it with a certain sense of purpose that made everyone else on the wharf get quickly out of his way.

Unfortunately for Will, _the Pearl _was already in motion, and by the time he got to the place where she had been docked, she was too far away to get to.

He was running wildly around the docks when he bumped into someone who shouted his name in alarm. It was Heather.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him excitedly.

"I must get to Jack!" Will exclaimed.

"Well, he's gone now," Heather pointed.

"Why aren't you on the ship?" Will asked, sighing dejectedly.

"Oh, Scarlette asked me to stay here with the children and make sure they didn't get into too much trouble. If you ask me, I think she was trying to get me out of the way of danger but if it makes her feel better … I suppose I don't mind too much."

Will sighed again and Heather laughed. "Hey, if you want to get a hold of him so badly … commandeer a ship." With that, she went walking towards town. Will frowned and turned to the harbor.

There was another smaller ship he could just see in the darkness that was also getting ready to leave. He backed up and took a running flying leap, latching onto the back railing of the ship. He pulled himself over the edge quickly and slumped to the deck.

He wasted no time in getting to his feet and running over to the helmsman, a short person who should have seemed very familiar to him, but Will was excessively stressed out at this point.

He pulled out his sword and laid it bare against the person's throat from behind. "Follow that ship, or I'll have your head."

The person was quick, spinning under the blade and kicking Will's legs out from underneath him, as if they had done it all before. The other blade was out and pointed at Will's throat now, as he lay back down on the deck. He looked surprisingly into the face of Scarlette.

"Welcome aboard, Will," she spoke, grinning. "But I'll not take orders from you, savvy? Grab him, boys."

Ragetti and Pintel hoisted Will to his feet while Sean and Tony disarmed him completely. Makeo leaned against the rigging and laughed while this was all going on. Scarlette, ever adept at multitasking had managed to get the ship out of the harbor. She flanked _the Pearl_, seeing as both parties had to get out of the Caribbean first.

"Now," Scarlette turned to face Will. "State your business. What do you want? More so, what did Beckett send you to do?"

"How do you know I came because of him?" Will asked defiantly.

Scarlette blinked. "It is common knowledge that Beckett wants me hung. You would not be here threatening me if you were not on a mission of dire importance."

Will looked stubbornly away and Scarlette laughed. "Let me guess. Elizabeth is in jail, and you've come to take us back to free her, is that it?"

"Not exactly," Will looked down at the deck a little gloomily but met her eyes again when he spoke. "Elizabeth and the others will go to the future, but Topher is still trapped there … not to mention our names won't be cleared unless Beckett gets what he wants."

"And if not us dead, what does Beckett want?" Scarlette asked, looking back to make sure she was still on course.

"That compass of Jack's," Will answered. "Beckett thinks it will lead him to something, and whatever that something is, it's important enough that he's going to certain lengths."

"But that's just it. What does he _want_? A thing that continues to elude every question. Well, he's shit out of luck even if he gets the compass," Scarlette spoke bluntly, still keeping some of her modernized speech. "The Isla de Muerta is no more."

"Yes, I thought that was strange too," Will confided. "I didn't mention it to him, however. I think the less he knows, the better."

"Couldn't agree more," Scarlette answered. She looked to her men. "I think you can let him go now. Return his weapons. Will never feels complete unless he has a sword at his hip and a few tomahawks strapped to his chest."

They gave back everything they'd stripped off him and Scarlette turned back to the helm. Will stepped up beside her and started firing off questions.

"Where are we going?"

"New York, a colony of the English, which means we'll enter colder waters soon."

"Why are we going there?" Will asked, thoroughly confused. Scarlette turned to him and blinked.

"We need to recover a weapon. Do you remember the sword I used on Barbossa?"

"Yes … it seemed to be special," Will answered. "What about it?"

Makeo interceded, knowing more about such things than Scarlette. "Long ago in a place called Japan, there was a blacksmith—"

"Oh, good," Scarlette cracked. "A story Will should enjoy."

"Whatever," Makeo continued. "The blacksmith had a real problem with these big dragon type things called _orochi_ … unfortunately, the _orochi_ were of a sort of divine ancestry and could not be killed really. They kept returning to bother him and just about everyone else around that time. He prayed to his gods and they blessed him with divine hands that could craft weapons to kill the _orochi_. He created a total of eight swords before the gods relinquished their gift."

"Eight swords?" Scarlette asked. "I thought there were only three."

"In this plane, only three exist now. The other five are scattered elsewhere. The gods may have taken them, no one really knows. They were originally crafted in the ancient Japanese katana form, but they change to suit their wielder. Unfortunately, they change their wielder to suit them as well."

Will looked at Scarlette in a most startled fashion. "That's why you were so distant when you killed him. The sword changed you?"

"Apparently," Scarlette answered. "It certainly has a mind of its own." At the moment, it was humming at her back, happy to be talked about.

"So the swords remaining … are the other two as strange as this one?" Will asked. Makeo grinned.

"Glad you asked, mate. You see, each sword was imbued with certain elemental attributes. This one was all about water, and so, probably because the swords are ambitious and seek out the one that should wield them, it founds its way to the hands of the sea devil."

"The sea devil?" Will asked, completely lost.

"We've been warned not to speak his name after dark," Scarlette added a little skeptically. "I'm pretty sure if you stick around, you'll hear about it all in more detail. We have to find these two swords to save our asses."

"And so we're going to New York to find a sword," Will repeated sternly. "Why did you steal this ship?"

Scarlette didn't reply because she knew Will would try to take control again if he thought Jack wasn't going to the same destination.

"Well?" He demanded after a while. "Why did you need two ships? This is a merchant ship, not a corvette. You aren't going into a battle."

"Will, let me explain something to you," she didn't give him eye contact but stared into the strangely calm night and spoke loud and clear. "Jack, Bootstrap, and I are in big trouble right now. We have to do these things immediately to alleviate that trouble. If you help us, we'll help you, got it? But don't expect me to turn this ship around and ride tally-ho to the rescue of other people when I have a time limit on my own life."

"What time limit?" Pintel asked, tightening ropes along the top deck. "Ol' Bootstrap an' Jack 'ave got only 'bout fifty days left. Don't you have years?"

"No," Scarlette answered. "I've got the same amount of time they do."

Makeo looked at her and he was not happy. "You haven't told them, have you?"

"It should have been assumed. I always said, 'we' have this much time." She frowned. "But no, I never told them specifically that our times were the same."

_The Pearl _had veered off and was sailing west now. She kept the frigate straight coursed and ignored Will and he pointed at _the Pearl _and made indignant noises.

"_The Pearl _is going that way!" He exclaimed, as if she could not see the evidence.

"My, your intuitiveness is boundless. Yes, they are, as you say, going that way. And we are not," she answered. "We are going to New York. They are going … elsewhere … I don't even think _they _know quite where they are going."

Will narrowed his eyes at her. "How can they not know where they're going?"

Scarlette shrugged. "Unorna has powers that I don't question, or at least try not to question. She said that he would find the man he's looking for, or rather that he would be found."

"Who is he looking for?" Will asked.

"Sao Feng is a Chinese captain that Jack met years ago. He owes him a great deal of money, his words, not mine. He also happens to have one of the swords we're looking for."

"Not to mention a hefty set of navigation charts," Makeo added. "You guys are skeptical about sailing around Africa … this guy does it on a normal basis. He's been everywhere and speaks something like ten languages."

"Damn," Scarlette sounded disappointed. "I would have liked to meet him."

Makeo snorted. "Yeah, apparently he's very interested in you. He was in Tortuga not too long ago and had all sorts of questions about the Lady Sparrow. He seems to think you're this noble woman who saved Jack from a fate worse than death."

"What?" Sean cracked from somewhere above them. "Celibacy?"

"Yeah, you would know a thing or two about celibacy," she shouted up to him.

"Ouch, Jaskins. That hurt."

"Yeah, well, anyway," Makeo continued. "I'm sure you'll get the opportunity to meet with the mighty Sao Feng, although, don't go underestimating him just because it seems like he likes you. He's known for lulling in prey and smiling while he dispatches them to other places."

"What's he doing in the Caribbean?" Scarlette asked.

Makeo shrugged. "He usually comes around here for trading purposes. His goods are worth a lot here and he's one of few captains that can make it around Africa during this time of year. I think this time however, he was alerted to the presence of a ship he once captained that had gone down in southern waters. It was a Chinese hoy with the figurehead of a marine wyrm, a dragon without legs. A serpent, if you will."

Scarlette's face showed a small change and Makeo smiled. "You know something about it, I see."

"The ship Jones brought up from the ocean was like that," she answered. "We left it at the place where the Isla de Muerta used to be. I don't know what happened to it after that."

"Ah, well, I don't know what sort of reaction that's going to merit from him," Makeo crossed his arms. "I do know, however, that he also came looking for Jack. I think he wants his money. He's usually a patient guy but something has lots of pirates scared lately. Maybe he's on a time limit as well."

"Have I ever told you," Scarlette spoke, squinting into the horizon. "That for someone in this time period, you speak almost like one of us 21st Century people?"

Makeo grinned. "Ahead of the times, babe."

"Don't call me babe."

"Sorry." He said the word, but his face showed that he wasn't the least bit sorry.

…**.**

The girls of the cell block tango, or not, waited patiently as the soldiers in charge of feeding the prisoners made their rounds. They all had a hold of Kristin's piece of gold and were getting ready to simply vanish as soon as the soldier noticed them.

"Where are we going to land?" Chelsea asked, just to make sure.

"I'm taking us home so we'll all know where the stuff is. These three are sort of in odd places. Robin hasn't been to L.A. in years, Elizabeth … well, you know. And Claudia, didn't your parents move out to Mexico? No offense, but I think Grants Pass will be easier for everyone."

"Yeah," Claudia agreed. "I don't think I'd want to be interpreter for that long. The film ban isn't in Mexico, however."

"Yeah, but we'd be lucky to find it in English," Robin snorted.

"Food, ladies," the soldier croaked. They all gave him innocent eyes as they vanished from the cell.

Topher cursed as the soldier dropped the pans of food and fled the scene, shouting for more important officers. Topher tried to get at some of the food, but all was out of his reach. Everything he'd want to eat had bounced too far away and the stuff he could reach, he wasn't going to eat if it had been on the floor of the prison.

Mercer and a few others arrived and looked at the empty cell. As he knew they would, Mercer and the others turned to him and began asking question after question.

He sighed and resigned the next few hours of his life to denying any knowledge of the vanishing women.

…**.**

They landed in the middle of the street and had to throw themselves to the side of the road to avoid the barrage of oncoming cars. Luckily, it was a one way street and they only had to dodge cars from one direction.

Elizabeth had her panic attack, of course that was expected. Robin looked around and remarked on the difference.

"I've never been here before," she spoke. "But it seems to be warmer."

"Yeah," Chelsea answered. "Global warming and all that. It's barely up to the 300 year average, but everyone is panicking about it."

"Where are we?" Claudia asked, looking about. "And what the hell is that?" She was looking at a giant nutcracker stationed in front of a store."

"Well, judging by the decorations," Kristin assessed. "We've landed somewhere in between the end of November and the beginning of January. This town is a little nuts about decorations. Elizabeth! Calm down! Nothing here is going to hurt you! Chill out!"

Elizabeth stopped shrieking but didn't stop shaking. She'd been to the future once before but it had been a long time and she had become decidedly frumpier. She set eyes on the nutcracker, let out a bone-chilling scream, and took off running down the street.

"Dammit!" Claudia took off after her and the others followed. Robin was last, still in her skirts and corsets and such.

Elizabeth turned the first corner she came to, a street called "H" street. Her skirts were flying in the wind and she was sobbing profusely. She didn't even notice when she crashed into several people. Claudia tackled her in a flying leap and they went down in a heap of skirts and jean clad legs.

"Hey! You can't just tackle people around here, miss," a man shouted. Claudia turned to him and sneered.

"You stay out of this, mister. Elizabeth, get up. Sorry I had to do that, but you were freaking out. We didn't want to lose you around here. Help me get her up, guys."

Kristin helped Claudia muscle Elizabeth to a standing position, where she sort of walked like a zombie between them.

"Lead the way, Chelsea," Kristin hefted Elizabeth. "Are we going to the apartment?"

"Yeah," Chelsea started walking up town. "We'll just have to jimmy the lock."

"I am not going out on any fire escapes this time," Kristin added. "Remember that? The pirate showed up and we had to run, but the fire escape with the only way out. That thing was so rusted …"

"You're not the one who was still on it when it fell," Chelsea smirked.

"Whatever," Kristin answered rather tiredly. "Let's just get the hell out of downtown Grants Pass and away from these stupid nutcrackers."

…**.**

It had been a week since Jack and Scarlette had parted ways, one bound for the new world, the other looking for part of the old. Jack had still not found Sao Feng. The name meant literally "howling wind" and there was no shortage of that lately. The wind was continuously sweeping through the rigging and making _the Pearl _glide about effortlessly. Normally this would be a good thing, however, Jack did not know where he was going.

The compass did not help. Jack's compass, of course, pointed to the thing he wanted most. He certainly did not want to be anywhere near Sao Feng. The many occurrences in Singapore had been enough for Jack. He wasn't interested in tangling with the Chinaman again.

It was a dark and spooky night, no really, don't laugh. The water had finally calmed down a bit but an odd fog was hanging about, close to the surface of the briny deep. Jack was fiddling with a string of beads in his hair, one in particular that had an Aztec origin. He smiled with a memory of how he'd come across that particular bead.

There was suddenly a shout from above and Marty swung down from his place in the nest. "A ship, a quarter to port of the bow."

Jack squinted and pulled out his scope to see if he could discern the origins of this mystery ship. Nighttime encounters were always difficult unless the nation was one with a particularly bright colored flag.

His blood iced over as he made out the ship. It was huge, a warship at least, but that wasn't what alarmed him. The rigging was the same as _the Bounty_'s had been, Chinese cut. Only this ship wasn't covered in aquatic life. And it was coming towards them. Jack looked up at the main mast to see what flags were being flown. None, great.

"Stand down, men, and wait for hostility."

"Hostility, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked. "That ship'll blow us clean outta the water before we can retaliate any hostility."

"But only if they really want to," Jack answered, swallowing loudly.

The large warship pulled up broadside and threw anchors, tethering their position. Jack moseyed on up to the gunwale and peered over.

His eyes widened when a line of men, hidden by shadows, stepped up to the railing of the other ship. "Who is your captain and what is their … business with us?"

"I would think, Jack Sparrow, that you would be more polite to me," the voice that replied was mid tenor range, and obviously Asian in accent.

Jack sighed. "Sao Feng … what a … pleasant surprise."

"Shall I lower this plank, Sparrow?"

Jack threw up his hands and turned around to look at his crew. "Why not? Everyone else is out to kill me, why not invite you on board as well."

The gangplank hit the railing with a loud bang and Jack jumped around to face the oncoming pirate.

Sao Feng was what some people called a pirate lord. His realm of domination included the South China Sea and Singapore, where his large home was located. One became a pirate lord by being the meanest son-of-a-bitch around in a certain area, and by being chosen by the last lord of the area.

Jack was regarded as some to be the closest thing to the Caribbean's lord at this point in time though he _did_ have the title, but that and the Atlantic ocean too close to Europe was sort of considered taboo area due to all the naval traffic that happened in those waters. There were nine pirate lords currently, but the number was expected to dwindle.

Sao Feng stepped down onto the deck of _the Pearl_, his clothing sweeping grandly about him. He wore an almost armor like vest over a dark silk shirt. There were no frills on this pirate. His beard and moustache were very Chinese and very period, bringing descriptions like Fu Man Chu to mind. His fingernails were not so much. They could probably be used as weapons on their own.

He fixed an eager but patient eye on Jack Sparrow as about six of his men swung over and landed with an almost silent grace. They each picked a few of _the Pearl_'s crew to watch and did so with cat-like ferocity.

"How may I help you?" Jack asked rather reluctantly. He did not offer his hand to the man standing before him. He knew better.

"Well," Sao Feng began, looking as if he were actually thinking about it. "I assume it is too much to ask for what you owe me, am I correct?" He smiled and showed that Asian pirates had bad teeth as well, although he had canines that looked like they belonged to a tiger.

Jack gulped again and nervously explained the situation. "You see, the island where my cash had been has recently been swallowed up by the sea. I can pay you, but there are a few problems with that just now."

"Problems," Sao Feng leaned forward. "Your chi is not whole, Jack Sparrow. What have you been doing?"

"I have no idea what you mean," Jack answered, straightening up. Sao Feng unsheathed a sword so quickly it took Jack a moment to realize he was pressed against the mast with a blade at his throat. Not only that, but Sao Feng had _another_ sword drawn at his side. He was fast, faster even than Scarlette. She had always been quick. This was unreal.

"It's been years, Jack, and I have not been compensated for the damages you caused. I did say I would kill you."

"Allow me to explain the situation," Jack choked past the blade. He could hear the sounds of fighting going on around him. Sao Feng shouted an order in Mandarin, and then in Cantonese and his men backed off. Jack watched in horror as a small gash on one closest to him closed up and healed before his eyes.

"Well, that's special," Jack remarked. "What have you been feeding your men? They seem to have regenerative powers."

Sao Feng smiled, reminding Jack that some secrets would be kept. "What about your situation must you explain, Jack Sparrow?"

"Well … you see, about twenty years ago I made the mistake of calling on Davy Jones … and I ended up indebted to him, only his coin is much more fatal than yours. Now, in order to defeat him, I either have to find the key and chest that belong to him, or kill him. Since I really don't want to visit a certain someone involving the key and chest bit, I'm reduced to locating the last of the infernal devices."

Sao Feng laughed, a surprisingly soft sound, given his appearance. "How much time do you have left, Jack Sparrow?"

"Forty-three days and counting," Jack answered. "Forty-two by the time the sun rises, I imagine."

"You are very fortunate I happened to be close by, yes?" the Asian captain was laughing again.

"Well, you see the irony in the situation as well … I can pay you, but only if I'm around to do so. For me to be … around, I need that sword of yours. _Ku_ … _ga_ …"

"Cookie," Bootstrap supplied.

Jack opened his mouth to repeat it, but thought better of himself and shot Bootstrap a dirty look.

"It's a sword imbued with fire attributes," Jack explained. "It will help me kill Jones, if that can be done."

"Ah," Sao Feng smiled again. "_Kuroi-agohige_, the red sword of fire. Yes, I have this blade, but are you sure you want it? Such power would consume you, Jack Sparrow. It is a very angry weapon."

"Yes, well, if I don't use it, another power will consume me, and one that's considerably more carnivorous." He shivered with the thought.

Sao Feng smiled again. "_Kuroi-agohige_ has its own thirst for blood."

Jack sighed. "Look … I need that sword. You want to get paid, I can't pay you until this Jones business is over. Help me finish it, and you'll get yours, just a little slower than normal because Isla de Muerta is hasta la bye-bye."

Sao Feng combed his dragon whiskers with one long fingernail and pondered. "I know not where _Tekagi-fukku_ is, but last I knew, the man you run from had hold of _Aoi-rozuka_."

"Scarlette managed to fall into possession."

"Ah, the Lady Sparrow," Sao Feng brightened. "Is she about?"

Jack was a little disturbed at his interest. "No, she is not about. Why do you ask?"

"I had heard that her name was one of demon caller and that she has this power."

Jack wracked his memory. None of the future kids were on board to help him but he eventually popped out with the name. "Ryoko." He'd been calling her Scarlette for so long, he had a hard time remembering her real name. Even when she'd had the name, he'd mostly called her luv, darling, and other such names he seemed to use on everyone.

"Yes," Sao Feng nodded. "Can she truly do what her name commands? I am not Japanese, but it is a language in which I and many of my men are confident."

Jack gave him a strange look. As if on cue, the ghost of Morgan appeared and began speaking with no abandon at all.

"I am one such being that she has called," Morgan spoke angrily. "Demons, spirits, bodies of the dead … she can call them all. I doubt she's tried calling any demons, and good thing, too. They're hard to control."

"I t'ought necromancers could not call demons unless dey have satanic or voodoo training?" the strangely informed crewmember turned out to be Leech. He got a few weird looks, but none that he addressed.

"I had such training and no, I couldn't call demons," Morgan answered smokily. "However, if she were to call one dead who was murdered, he would turn and run to avenge his death, no matter the obstacles."

"Why didn't Anamaria try to kill you, then?" Gibbs asked angrily. He really hated this ghost.

"She did," Morgan answered. "I was able to amass enough power to keep her obedient, however."

"Who is to say Scarlette couldn't do that?" Jack asked. "Technically she has yours and Barbossa's powers as well."

"She is untrained."

"Right," Jack ignored the ghost and returned to the matter at hand. "Well, Sao Feng … what'll it be?"

"What is to keep me from killing you now, Jack Sparrow?"

Jack swallowed and that thought, '_to hell with it_.' "My winning personality and your sense of adventure. And, you can come with me to find Scarlette and maybe she'll raise dead people for you."

Sao Feng raised an eyebrow. "I have been intrigued by this Ryoko woman ever since I heard about her years ago. You have your legends, yes, Jack Sparrow, but she is quickly gaining her own. They say she vanished from an East India Trading Company ship she had been fettered in once in Martinique."

Jack met Sao Feng's eyes. "She does that sometimes." He decided he'd keep his own secrets about the time traveling business, just as Sao Feng would his rejuvenating pirates.

"Ah, Sparrow, how did you come upon such a magical creature?"

Jack wanted to smack himself in the head. "Let me have the sword and I'll introduce you to her."

Sao Feng looked stern. "I will do this, but I will follow you and only relinquish the sword to her hand."

"All right, all right," Jack clapped his hands. That was good enough for him. "Off to New York we go." This time he knew he'd be able to find where he was going.

…**.**

Three weeks at sea and Will was ready to strangle Makeo. Makeo was musically inclined on a large scale and since Scarlette was as well, she didn't mind that he'd sort of shanghaied Sean, Tony, and Pintel into a quartet with himself. He liked playing tricks on Will. In fact, he had staged an entire song based on Will's responses.

Ragetti had been sort of looked over for not being a singer and so he and Will had an odd camaraderie going on, trying to think of words that couldn't be rhymed.

On one such occasion, Will had been disgusted at the lack of work being done on the ship. He had accosted the bandit leader and asked him why he insisted on singing. Makeo had turned to his three stooges and told them to answer Will's question, while Makeo whistled an odd accompaniment. Scarlette stood at the helm and smirked.

"_We're a band of vicious pirates, a sailin' out ta sea! When you hear our gentle singin', you'll be sure ta turn and flee_!"

"Oh, this is just ridiculous," Will commented as they began to bend their knees in an odd fashion. Ragetti looked sad and Scarlette started laughing. "Come on, men! These sails aren't supposed to flap."

"Davy Jones will be done for when he falls into our trap," Pintel recited, winking at the others. They came back in on the next line.

"_We're a club of tuneful rovers, we can sing in every clef. We can even hit the high notes_,"

"It's just too bad you're tone deaf," Scarlette called, fitting in perfectly. The men didn't miss a beat.

"_A pirate I was meant to be. Trim the sails and roam the sea_."

Will sighed. "I don't think any of you were _meant _to be a pirate."

"We know he's sure to lose, 'cause we know just where to fire it!" Tony exclaimed, laughing until he came in with the others.

"_We're thievin' balladeers, a gang of cutthroat mugs. To fight us off you won't need guns, just jolly good earplugs. A pirate I was meant to be! Trim the sails and roam the sea_."

"All right, men," Will exclaimed. "Let's get to work!"

"Our vocation's a thing we love, a thing we'd never shirk!" Sean countered.

"_We'll fight you in the harbor, we'll battle you on land, but when you meet singin' pirates—_"

"They'll be more than you can stand," Will muttered, unknowingly.

"Oh! That was a good one!" Makeo exclaimed.

"No, it _wasn't_," Will insisted, pushing the bandit away. "No time for song, we've got to _move_!"

"The battle will be long, but our courage we will prove," Pintel answered him, smiling his foul smile.

"_We're a pack of scurvy seadogs, and we pity not a dram. We all eat roasted garlic and sing from the diaphragm. A pirate I was meant to be, trim the sails and roam the sea_!" Scarlette had joined in on the short chorus that time, much to Will's annoyance.

"Less singing, more sailing," Will insisted fruitlessly.

"When we defeat our wicked foe, his ship he will be bailing," Tony shouted with mirth.

'_Unlikely_,' Scarlette thought. '_Jone's ship can travel underwater._'

"_If you try to fight us, you'll get a nasty whackin'. If you disrespect our singin' WE WILL FEED YOU TO THE KRAKEN! A pirate I was meant to be. Trim the sails and roam the sea_!"

"I'm getting so sick of you pirates and you're rhyming!" Will warned.

"We're ready to set sail, though the cannons need a priming," Sean answered somewhat helpfully.

"_We're troublesome corsairs and we've come to steal you treasure. We would shoot you on the downbeat, but we've gotta rest five measures. A pirate I was meant to be. Trim the sails and roam the sea!_"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Ragetti whined pitifully.

"The brass is what we'll polish and the deck is what we'll mop," Pintel pantomimed mopping the deck. Will was reminded of when Pintel used a tar mop to threaten _the Pearl_'s crew years ago.

"Allow me to help you out," Scarlette called down to Will. She sang out, in a voice that could be rough or smooth depending on what she wanted. She chose rough and stern but smiled while she did it. "_You say you're nasty pirates, scheming thieving bad bushwhackers. From what I've seen, I'll tell you, you're not pirates, you're just slackers_!"

"_A pirate I was meant to be. Trim the sails and roam the sea._"

Will looked murderously up at her and she shrugged as the pirates continued to sing. She then got an evil glint in her eye and held up a round, brightly colored object. It was an orange, or a small grapefruit. She met Will's eyes and mouthed the word '_orange_'.

He turned back to the singing dancing pirates with a look of triumph on his face. "We'll surely avoid scurvy if we all eat an _orange_."

"And … um," Sean faltered.

"Well?" Pintel spoke.

"Er," Tony scratched his head.

"Door hinge?" Pintel tried in vain to keep the song going.

"No, no," Makeo sighed.

"Guess the songs over then," Ragetti spoke with relief.

"Okay," Scarlette added. "Back to work."

"Aye, Cap'n" they answered, used to her command by that point. There had been a few odd phrases of "Captain Sparrow" in the beginning of the voyage but they had all adjusted to the fact that she and Jack were not one person. Will looked up at her with obvious anger in his eyes. He rushed up the stairs to where she was stationed and stood like an angry shadow over her. She ignored him.

"Why do you let them do that?" Will asked.

"Will, we could all die, and soon. They're just having fun. I'm not going to deny them that. Makeo couldn't be serious about anything if his life depended on it."

"And what if your life depends on it?" Will asked seriously.

Scarlette met his eyes. "I don't need you to protect me, William."

"Right," Will answered, miffed about the whole situation. "Jack will do that, except he's not here, big surprise. He's not very good at protecting people."

"You know what, Will," Scarlette growled, a warning that he was going to ignore. "You're starting to piss me off. Listen to me. I don't need anyone to protect me. Sometimes I want someone to, but I am very well capable of fighting my own battles. What the hell else do you want?"

Will frowned. "I want Jack to not be such a coward."

Scarlette was surprised. "He's a pirate, Will. He values his own skin and _the_ _Pearl_ above all else."

"Does that not bother you," Will asked her, digging as deep as she would allow. "That he holds himself and his ship above you?"

"Usually, no," she answered. "Because generally I am on board that ship. Do not forget when he fired on _The Opal's Revenge_ with _the Dragon_ close enough to make it dangerous merely to rescue me. However, I would much rather he not ride into my rescue like a knight on a horse because usually the trouble I get into is something that would suck us both in, and what use would that be?"

Will looked skeptical. "When was the last time you got into trouble on your own, besides the island?"

"I attempted murdering Cutler Beckett," Scarlette answered without blinking. Will almost fell over.

"You _what_!" he was so incredulous he forgot to close his mouth.

"I was going to blow the ship he was on sky high," Scarlette answered. "But I got caught, and they chained me to a wall. They brought out that stupid brand and were going to mark me much in the way they did Jack's arm. Beckett only saw my face once, but he gave the order. They didn't know who I was or why I was there, but they knew I was a pirate, or at least, thought they knew. It makes me wonder how many people are wandering around out there with a large "P" burned into them who had absolutely nothing to do with piracy."

"What happened?" Will asked curiously. "And why did you want to kill him?"

"Well, I had to reach the necklace. Just thinking about it didn't work. The wall shackles were standard size and I slipped free. Of course, just as I had freed my ankles, a passel of EITC marines tromped down into the brig.

"I concentrated on the necklace. There's still blood on it, in the engraving. I vanished in front of them. I was going to kill him because he had almost run over my son with his damn horse earlier that day, not on purpose, of course. I don't think even he's that cold, but I could be wrong." She smirked. "Besides, there aren't many people on our side of things that _don't_ want to kill him."

Will shook his head to clear his senses. "How long has it been? I mean … how many days are left, really."

"We have a grand total of twenty-nine days," she answered sullenly. "We're due in port in less than a week and that's making good time, you understand. We aren't going to make it back to the Caribbean to unite all three swords so I must ask you to perform a favor for me."

Will looked at her suspiciously. "A favor? What sort of favor?"

"I need you to wield _Tekagi-fukku_," she told him. "I already asked Makeo and he refused. He says the three swords are in this case going to be tied to the three members that this mission involves. The swords can taste irony. If you wield the sword, it will transfer easily to Bootstrap's hand, should he want to use it, but he is no swordsman. I need you to use it, Will."

"Why me?" Will asked, not having the best opinion of himself apparently. Scarlette whipped her blade out and swung at him. He parried without even thinking about unsheathing his sword.

"That's why," she answered. She put her sword away and felt the quiet anger of the blade on her back at having been ignored while the other edge was favored.

Will sheathed his blade as well and looked at her curiously. "So, where is this sword we're going to find?"

Makeo popped out of seemingly nowhere and began another tale of swords and things.

"There is a were-tribe in New York," he began. "They're really sort of a coalition, a bunch of guys who banded together because they could change into animals and stuff. They're big on fighting and dominance shows, mostly if you're male, though. There are all sorts of varieties of critter, I've been told. There are two men that come close to being what you might call the leader of this clan, one is a wolf, and the other I think is some sort of leopard."

"Unorna warned us about the wolf," Scarlette asked. "Why?"

Makeo smiled, a brilliant flash of white teeth against tanned skin. "I don't share her powers of sight, so I can't be sure. I think it may be a dominance thing. Jack has a tendency to rely on his wit rather than his arm to get him out of fixes. It would be taken as a sign of weakness. You on the other hand tend to grow bolder and more dominant at any sign of power. This would be seen as a sign of challenge. Women are seen as weak, so you should not try to exhibit dominant traits around the men of this clan. They will feel compelled to put you in your place."

"Well, then we'll be fighting a lot," Sean cracked. "Jaskins can't control her dominant wiles. She beats us up all the time."

"Stuff it, Sean," she smarted. She turned to Makeo. "I've read lots of different shape shifter literature. Are they likely to be super human in strength?"

"Count on it," Makeo answered with a serious nod. "You really shouldn't underestimate them."

"Is this type of lycanthropy contagious?" she asked another good question.

"That, I don't know," Makeo answered. "If it is, they aren't making many more. It's a small group, relatively, anyways. The only thing I've heard is that they will 'infect' for lack of a better term, a woman seen as a worthy mate."

Scarlette frowned. "What constitutes as 'worthy'?"

He shrugged. "They want non-dominant females, so I assume you'd be safe from that if you acted like yourself."

"But I would be constantly avoiding attacks from shifters that are way faster, way stronger, and probably way bigger than I am. What is the safest road, here?"

"Don't go in," Will suggested. "Let us deal with them. We're men, so they won't want us, and I'm sure we can curb our mouths long enough to get along."

"I can't let you do that," she answered. "This is my mission. That bloody bastard is after me, so I'll get the damned sword. I'll just play it neutral until something happens. Then, I'll respond with whatever will get rid of the action."

"You're going to confuse the hell out of them," Tony cracked.

"Good," Scarlette smiled. "We'll assume that they're going to make a nuisance of themselves. Confusion to enemies is always good."

…**.**

Well, that's it for this chapter. I found this ring made in Afghanistan today that looks a lot like the ring Jack wore in the first movie. It's mine now, hee!

I was also stopped by a strange man, who told me I was a very eccentric character to be dressed as a pirate in a small town like Grants Pass. I told him I was from L.A. I don't know what nationality he was, perhaps something Eastern, but not Asian. I don't think he was Hispanic. He had apparently been stuck in Grants Pass. When I told him my name, he seemed to think it was the greatest name in the world and instead of shaking my hand, he kissed the back of it.

His parting words I had to laugh at. He told me I was a beautiful woman, and that he had good taste so it must be the truth. Funny, I don't think this stranger realized just how low my self-esteem had been lately.

Well, its 11:59, April 18th, 2007.


	17. Chapter XVI: Feral Niceties, Social Naiv

Hah! Midnight! I didn't even lose a minute!

Onward, we fly.

A pirate's life is a wonderful life, we roam all over the sea. I'll pick a career as a buccaneer, a pirate's life for me, oh a pirate's life for me.

I think that's how it went. I don't remember.

**Chapter XVI –Feral Niceties, Social Naiveté—**

Jack Sparrow was very unenthusiastic about the ship behind him. _The Empress_ was an eighty gun ship, and that didn't count the swivels on her prow. Her crew was about twenty men over _the Pearl_'s and to top it off, she wasn't as slow as most Man o' War ships Jack encountered in the Caribbean. Something about how the Chinese had crafted their sails had made the area of sail count for more.

He had been thinking about this for some time. He finally concluded that all the extra wood used in the sail structure not only added wind resistance to the sails, but in having less cloth between structured pieces, the wind was caught more effectively. _The Pearl _was still faster, but not fast enough to get away from the longer range of the Chinese cannons. They used a strange rocket technology that set loose a blaze of firework type flashes along with shooting a cannonball. It was highly disorienting.

Jack had witnessed this firsthand the other day when _The Empress_ had taken out a French sloop. There was no real need to send the dimwitted merchants aboard to see Old Hobb, but Sao Feng had probably wanted to demonstrate his prowess before Jack had a chance to run out on the deal. The deal of which about Sao Feng would not shut up.

Every night, when the wind grew still, Sao Feng would call out to Jack and ask questions about the mysterious woman he had married. Jack had not been too enthused by it, either, but he humored the man.

In fact, by the time they had hit day 29 on the Kraken countdown, Jack was almost as fed up with his situation as Will was with the rhyming.

"And what does she look like?" Sao Feng asked on day twenty-seven. They were well into Atlantic waters and were sailing up the coast of the New World, which was still relatively new at that point. Sao Feng had not blown up any other ships, thus giving no one a reason to attack the pair as they meandered through the ocean.

"Why do you want to know what she looks like?" Jack asked, more than a little annoyed.

Sao Feng smiled but Jack did not see it. The Asian man called out. "Do not fear, Jack Sparrow. I do not covet her. I merely wish to know a little about her appearance so that, if we are needed to aid in recovering her from these shifters, I will know which is your lovely lady."

Jack sighed. "She's shorter than everyone on this ship except for Marty, is dressed in a mix of Chinese and European garb and has long golden, no, make that long _black_ hair. About rump length. Her eyes are green and her skin is like a golden tan. She's really thin. I can circle her ankle with one hand."

Sao Feng looked puzzled as he leaned over the railing of the higher ship. "Why did you change your mind about her hair?"

Jack laughed. "Something … odd happened when her powers came into place and her hair went from a golden brown reddish color to pitch black. It's darker than my hair now."

"And decidedly shinier," remarked Bootstrap. He's always kept his long brown hair well groomed and looking at the dreads that were on the underside of Jack's hair made him wince.

"She had green eyes and golden hair?" Sao Feng asked in confusion. He had been under the impression that Ryoko had been Japanese, a nation that was generally dark haired and dark eyed. Now he was jumping to conclusions. "Perhaps she is a goddess."

"Yeah, a real goddess," Jack answered. Sao Feng, who was unacquainted with sarcasm, took that to be a confirmation. His eyes got wide and he scratched his bald head with his long fingernails.

Bootstrap, who was mopping the deck and watching the interaction, was apprehensive. "Boy, this is going to be interesting in a few days unless you both start paying more attention."

"What does that mean?" they both asked him. He raised his hands in submission, still holding the mop.

"Only that I bet our Chinese guest is wondering if you're married to a goddess, why are you having trouble with Davy Jones?"

"Exactly so," Sao Feng answered. "I do not understand."

"I don't either," Jack answered.

…**.**

Scarlette, Will, Makeo and the others arrived in New York with twenty-three days left on the clock. Jack and company were still a good eight days behind them and upon their landing on the banks of the Hudson, Makeo looked to the brightly lit daytime sky.

"One week until the moon is full," he assessed.

"What does that mean?" Will asked, sliding down a mooring line. They had breached the ship on land in an area that wouldn't see much traffic anyways. Abandoned ships were bad omens, and more often as not, one would be left alone.

"Should someone stay here?" Scarlette asked. Makeo looked behind him and smirked.

"From now on, you all might as well do as I say. You don't know the customs of these people, so don't say anything remotely rude. You four are staying with the ship. You should be fine. If the three of us don't return in a week, you'll just assume we've been eaten, all right?"

"Wait," Will exclaimed. "What's so important about the moon being full?'

Makeo smiled again. "Their lycanthropy is tied to the moon. On that date, they celebrate and lose their forms, and often their minds as well. They can transform at any time, but to do so takes energy."

"Oh, this is just sounding better and better," Will sounded pessimistic. "Can they be killed?"

"It's difficult," Makeo answered. "Bullets won't do much. They'll just heal them unless it's silver ammunition. Blades, however, can do some damage. Silver does _more_ damage, but if you cut off a limb or something, they can only grow it back by shifting, which they will, readily. They're much easier to deal with in human form. I guess you could take their head off and they'd die … but I don't think any of us is fast enough."

"Great," Scarlette sounded excited. "Let's go find them." She started walking towards the woods in the distance. Makeo cleared his throat and held everyone back. Scarlette turned around. "What?"

"We should go through town," Makeo suggested. "We may get a better idea of where they're at that way. The colonists have been having problems with them for years."

"But Scarlette's wanted by the crown," Will pointed out. "What if we're arrested?"

"I don't think it'll be too much of a problem here," she answered. "I'm from the future, remember? Not too far from now, this whole place is going to be at war with Britain over their independence. They will win that war and become the country I came to you from."

She walked back to them and the three of them set off towards the town. The only one that was really going to fit in was Will. Scarlette and Makeo were both dressed a little too strangely to be considered normal. Not to mention the fact that their skin was darker than was … fashionable.

"If we had to go through town," Scarlette began. "Why the hell did we have to dry dock the damn ship?"

Makeo smiled. "I guess we didn't after all."

…**.**

The three started at the docks and worked their way through the town, asking questions. They split off and agreed to meet back at the docks in an hour.

Scarlette was rather apprehensive about walking the streets by herself in a land she did not know. She didn't mind in a place like Tortuga. The name of Sparrow generally protected her from pirates. Here, however, she was just a dark skinned strangely dressed woman. She could only imagine what the locals were saying about her. Women did not wear pants or carry weapons here. With her dark hair, her features were decidedly Indian, and the natives were not in the best light with the colonists.

She was meandering down the street looking for people who looked polite enough or interesting enough to tell her what she wanted to know. She spotted a man dressed all in black. At first, she thought he was a priest, but his clothing was not so habit-like upon taking a closer look. He had sandy blonde hair, like Scarlette's had been before; only his was very wavy, almost curly. It went a bit past his shoulders.

Scarlette was trying not to stare, but his state of dress was so much different from the others in the town. As he passed her, she tried asking him a few questions. He snarled at her in a very feral sort of way. Scarlette caught sort of a psychic projection of claws, teeth, and a pair of golden eyes that were adjusted more for slinking about in darkness than walking in broad daylight.

She blinked and watched the man walk down the street, going on his way. She had a feeling she had just run into one of the creatures they had come to find. Quickly, she grabbed the nearest local and pointed to the retreating figure. "Who is that man? Where can I find him normally?"

The man squinted. "There is not anyone there, miss."

"What? But I just saw him," she looked back. The street was empty of black clad figures. She walked back the way she'd come, looking for footprints on the muddy road. Just as she had thought, the man had not exactly vanished. His footprints continued to a particular spot, and stopped, but they were not the same. There was a set, right before they stopped that were indented deeper than the rest, as if he had jumped somewhere. She looked up at the rooftop.

There was the man, about her own age with his golden hair. His black clad fingers curled over the edge of the roof as he crouched and stared at her.

"Who are you?" she asked up at him. He only stared, and after a while, turned and left over the rooftops as if this was something he did regularly.

Scarlette was genuinely curious but didn't really have an avenue for following him around. Besides, she didn't want to anger any of the shifters if she could help it. She looked into the sky and decided it had been about an hour. She headed back to the docks.

She met Makeo there and found he'd had worse luck than she had. No one was really inclined to answer their questions, mostly due to their appearance. Will returned however with a fourth person.

He was tall, but then, to Scarlette, just about everyone was tall. He had probably stuck out to Will just like the other man had to Scarlette because he too was dressed differently from everyone else. He was not Asian, but also like Scarlette, he was dressed partially in Chinese clothing. His shirt was black silk with red buttons and cuffs. There was something embroidered on his back as well. Scarlette caught part of the design as he turned to look about him for something.

"Who is this?" Makeo asked of Will, smiling as brilliantly as ever. Scarlette felt like she was standing among giants. All three men were around six feet.

"They call me Angel," the man answered, and Scarlette looked up at his face. He was staring at her, his eyes dark with some emotion she didn't understand. They were dark anyways, a brown deep, like good dark chocolate. His hair looked brown from where she was standing, and was tied back with something.

"Well," Angel," Scarlette began, ignoring the searching look in his eyes. "We are looking for a tribe of shape shifters."

"Yes, I know," he answered. He motioned to Will. "He asked me about them. I know where you can find them."

"Really?" Scarlette smiled. "You can take us to them as well, I hope. I'm pretty lousy with directions."

He pulled the tie out of his hair, shaking it around his shoulders. It was a rich auburn red color, not brown at all. It covered half of his face, hiding one eye. He looked out at her from a curtain of gorgeous hair and spoke. "I can take you there, but you won't be able to kill them. I suggest you not try doing that. They don't like it very much when humans try them like that."

"No one's going to kill anyone," Scarlette answered, looking away from the beautiful man in front of her. "We just need to ask some questions."

"What sort of questions?" Angel asked, flipping his hair back over his shoulders. He had bone earrings through both lobes.

"Friendly questions, nothing dangerous, at least not to them," Scarlette answered, not wanting to give too much away to this person she'd just met. He already hit her radar as someone different, but by nature, she didn't trust anyone until they had proven their worth.

"You told me you would take us there," Will added gruffly.

"I told you I would take one person there if I could guarantee that you were not there to hurt them. I have chosen the person who is least threatening and poses the best chance of coming back."

Scarlette raised an eyebrow. "Don't let looks deceive you. I'm plenty dangerous on my own. I won't go without these two, either." She looked side to side at the men at her back. Will Turner looked wary as usual and Makeo for once looked nearly feral himself. Angel was nonplussed and smiled a close mouthed smile.

"Fine. I'll take all three of you, but be warned. Certain members are not going to take well to you two." He motioned at the men. Scarlette frowned.

"How not well are they going to take this?" she asked. "And how do you know so much? I just ran into someone who I was pretty certain was one of these shifters and you don't seem the same."

"I know because I've seen them," he answered. "They've been attacked by the witch burners several times and every time it happens, they come into town the next day and toss the dead at the feet of the church. None of the dominant shifters have died in these events. It is always the humans that fare badly against them. When they are able to kill, it is usually the weakest, and only by losing a great number of their own in the endeavor."

"We are not the humans that have been bothering them," Makeo answered accordingly. "We need their help."

Angel looked up at him. "What sort of help?"

Scarlette shook her head. "You don't want to know. Let's just get going. Either they'll help us or they won't."

Angel started walking and Scarlette fell into step beside him. Will and Makeo followed along behind them as they walked through the town. When the roads ended and all was left to cross the fields to get to the woods, Makeo and Will fanned out a bit.

"How long until we arrive?" Will asked, trudging along.

"Not too much longer," Angel answered. "Although, they'll know we're coming long before we reach them."

Will's hand hovered by his sword as he looked about the fields for potential danger. Scarlette noticed it and frowned. "Don't touch your sword. We don't want to give an air of hostility as soon as we get in range. That will send the wrong message." Will looked stubborn but he took his hand away from the hilt.

They entered the woods and already the atmosphere felt different. The woods were hushed as if waiting for something to happen, but it was a wait that might last hundreds of years. The trees were old. Scarlette was left wondering if any of them still stood in her time.

Angel looked about and headed to the right, following the line of trees against the fields until they came to a creek. It didn't look very deep but it ran quickly. Angel leapt across effortlessly and Scarlette felt an immediate urge to flinch. Will and Makeo made it across not nearly as effortlessly but still. It was a good six feet across and she eyed the distance stubbornly.

Makeo had already stepped into the edge of the creek and moved to catch her. She frowned. "Get out of there."

"But you'll need help."

"No. Get out."

"The stream gets narrower farther up," Angel offered. Will knew better than to try to persuade Scarlette when she was feeling inadequate compared to her masculine companions.

"Move, Makeo."

"You won't make it across, babe."

"Watch me, and don't call me 'babe'." Makeo got out of the water and stood back. Will and Angel didn't move. She stepped back a bit and with a running start, flew across the gap. She landed on a stone protruding from the bank and almost lost her footing before she threw herself to land.

"There," she said, brushing herself off. "Not as graceful as you long legged creatures, but here I am. Let's go." She walked on before anyone could say anything. Makeo followed her. Will was about to as well, but he remembered that they were supposed to be following Angel. He looked at their guide and found that his eyes were still on Scarlette. He had a thoughtful expression on his face, almost as if he were considering something.

He turned and looked Will in the eyes. "Is she yours?"

Will frowned. "What?"

"Does she belong to you? Is she your woman?"

Will was confused for a moment. "No."

"And the other?"

Will was not sure where this was going so he answered again. "No."

"Interesting," Angel smiled and continued walking. Scarlette and Makeo had stopped and looked back to their lagging companions.

Will shivered and followed Angel. The strange man did not look at Scarlette as he passed her but Will still felt odd, as if maybe he should have lied.

…**.**

"You have no idea how hard this was to find," Claudia announced, taking the shiny disk out of the computer and handing it to Chelsea. "_Pirates of the Caribbean; Dead Man's Chest_, for your viewing pleasure. I haven't found any of the others yet. There was a broken linked _At World's End _but that was the closest thing I found to it. The ban went into effect almost immediately after it was released so naturally there aren't many out."

Chelsea hooked up the player and inserted the disk, listening to the whirring of it reading. There was no menu to speak of or navigate. Claudia had just burned it onto the disk and went from there. There was a Disney castle sequence, and then a road, lightning, tree Bruckheimer sequence. The image of water showed up and a title appeared. Chelsea paused it and called the others to the living room.

They had been in the future for a few weeks now. It had taken them that long to acquire a playable film of the second movie. Robin and Elizabeth were now in comfortable futuristic clothing, Robin favoring her old style of jeans and low cut shirts. Elizabeth felt uncomfortable in sleeveless shirts, so she stuck to V-neck long sleeved t's and slacks, or long skirts, no denim. Kristin had clothes that sort of fit her. Elizabeth was tall, however, and many of the borrowed things showed more leg than with which she was comfortable.

"Is everybody ready?" Chelsea asked, noticing that Kristin had brought a giant bag of popcorn over and everyone had sodas. "Well, hold on, I want some too."

"Then push play and sit down," Robin laughed. "I'm eager to see this! Ryoko isn't in it, so Jack is single."

"You are a married woman," Elizabeth reminded her, as if she'd forgotten.

"Yeah, I know," Robin answered. "But that doesn't mean I can't look."

"It should," Elizabeth added. "I would never look at Jack and think of him in any other way than scoundrel."

Boy, was she in for a surprise. Chelsea hit the play button and the screen filled with the sound of rain as water ran from a platter of teacups.

Elizabeth gasped as her face filled the screen. "What?"

"We've already explained it to you, so shh," Claudia said, leaning forward, eagerly awaiting the story.

Little did they know that the contents of that film were going to send them into a sort of panic and unrest.

…**.**

The nearly full moon rose high enough to shine into the woods at intermittent clearings. Night had fallen and still their destination was not at hand. All three were tired and anxious to arrive. They would have preferred to arrive in daylight but not knowing the way themselves, they were at the mercy of this unknown person.

"We're nearly there," he said again, nearing a large tree covered in soft moss that seemed to shine in the moonlight with some inner luminescence.

"For sure, this time?" Scarlette asked, a little annoyed.

"Are you tired?" Angel asked her as if he really wanted the answer.

She straightened up and met his dark eyes. "I'll live. I can walk all night if I have to."

"I can too, but I really don't feel like it," Makeo sat down on a large rock and inspected the soles of his boots. "We must have gone twenty miles by now."

"Stay here, then," Angel continued deeper into the darkness. He walked between two trees that had grown in such a way, the resembled a doorway. He disappeared into the inky blackness beyond. Scarlette followed blindly into the dark as well. Will and Makeo looked after their departing forms and realized they couldn't see anything past a certain point. Both looking at each other, they rushed after them, bursting blindly into an open space.

Makeo moved far enough into the space that he lost the feeling of Will beside him. Will had stopped just inside the 'doorway' and placed his hand on his weapon.

"Angel?" someone asked. It sounded like Scarlette, which meant she was even farther into the darkness than the others had dared go.

Makeo shouted in alarm as the sound of rushing air came to his ears. Seconds later, he was seized and dragged to the ground. He heard Will's sword clear leather but not long afterward, there was a deep chuckling and Will went down as well. There were no sounds from Scarlette.

"Well, then. Let's shed a little light on the situation, shall we?" The voice was full of unshed mirth and followed by a sort of giggle as torches flared to life around the area. It was a clearing that had been turned into a sort of tent. Cloth was hung from the trees, making walls branching out from the 'door' trees. Overhead was a grand canvas, probably taken from a ship to form a ceiling. There were many bodies standing about, black being the dominant color in their raiment.

Angel stood near the back of the grand clearing, Scarlette just behind him. Will and Makeo, who had both been dragged to the ground, were now hoisted to their feet. Angel had apparently shielded Scarlette when the shifters attacked. To see him still standing, Will made a crucial click in his mind.

"You're a shifter," he spat at Angel. "That's how you knew so much. You weren't worried about the town suffering the consequences should we want to kill. You were afraid for your tribe."

"No, I wasn't," Angel answered, smiling slightly. "You two couldn't ever manage to kill any of them."

"You!" Scarlette pointed at a sandy haired shifter standing on the other side of Angel. "You _were_ a shifter. I saw you this morning."

"Yes," he answered. He had been the one who'd called for light. "I remember. You knew I had jumped as well. Which meant that of course you had come here _looking _for us. Normal humans don't spot things like that. They rarely ever look up."

"Yes," she answered, totally unconcerned for her two companions still in the clutches of various shifters. There were no women in the area, she noticed. She had no idea how to act, so she decided to be herself and tell the truth. "We came for your help."

"I'll ask again, what sort of help," Angel spoke, sitting in a great stone chair, of which there were two. Scarlette looked about and not seeing anyone else to answer to, she spoke to him.

"There is a sword in your possession, _Tekagi-fukku_, that I must have."

There was a general uproar at that. Two of the shifters moved to grab her as well and she managed to evade them. Their faces showed surprise as she looked at each one and moved with enough speed to avoid them.

"Don't touch her," Angel told them. "Let's see if she can explain why she wants the blade of earth."

She moved closer to the stone chair with the man who had guided them here and asked quietly. "Do they answer to you?"

"No," another called out. "We answer to each other. There are no leaders here."

"We are _all_ leaders here," another contradicted.

"Then may I act as a foreign leader and make a request?" she asked of the room. There was a cacophony of sound and she turned to face the others, giving Angel and the sandy haired man her back.

"No woman can hold her plathe amongstht uth unleth she can fight and win," a particularly built one answered her, the torchlight glinting off his head, which had been shaved bare. "Can you fight uth and win?" His lisp, which should have made him sound silly and hard to take serious was contradicted by the wall of power that rolled off him as he expression violence with his voice.

"I would not presume to say I could," she answered. "For I have not fought anyone of your … efficiency before." That got a few laughs and she continued. "But it is against my judgment to just give up. I will make a request as an outsider. Please, release my two companions. They will not harm you." She said the last at Will and Makeo, who looked like they would rather try to hurt the men holding them.

"What'll it be, men?" the sandy haired one called out.

"Let them go," a thin one with a sweet face but dark hair and eyes growled out. "They could only _try _to hurt us, anyways."

Angel stood and walked over to where the two men were being held. "No. Send them away."

"What?" Scarlette asked, rushing over as well. "Send them away? What do you mean by that?"

"I mean take them outside, and make them leave," he answered.

"Why?"

"Does it matter?" the sandy haired one moved up behind her. "We only need one of you to bargain with. Angel, why did you even bring them all?"

"They insisted," he answered.

"Fine," Scarlette spoke softly. Will and Makeo started arguing loudly and she glared at them.

"Go," she told them. "I will be fine. Stick to your own rules. If by the full moon I have not returned, assume I am not coming."

"Better yet," Angel answered. "If she does not return by that time, come back here and see if she is still alive." He smiled at that, a joke that no one but he understood. No, not exactly. The other shifters laughed.

The men were released and shoved out the door. Two shifters went with them to make sure they left.

"Now," Angel returned to the stone chair. The sandy haired person sat in the other. The remaining shifters swarmed forward, moving Scarlette along with them in their sea of black clothing. She realized with a sort of detached interest that, except for her shirt and sash, she fit the décor. "Where were we? You need this sword for what purpose?"

"I made a deal with Davy Jones," she answered. This news did not have the affect on the shifters that it had had on the various ships she'd been on lately. They laughed instead.

"You're a sailor, then?" Angel smiled at his sandy haired friend. "What do you think, Edward?"

"She is a pirate," he answered, smiling. "No sailor would take on women to crew. No, she's not of the legal sailing class, and she's not as soft as she looks."

Scarlette looked down at herself in wonder. Soft?

"So you made a deal with the scourge of the sea," Edward continued. "Now what? Where do we come in? You're not expecting us to fight him off for you, I hope."

"No," she shook her head. "There are three swords in existence on this plane that are capable of killing an immortal being. I have one, given to me by Jones himself. The other two are being searched for right now by others in my condition. I was sent here to find the earthen sword."

"With those men as companions, no doubt?" another spoke.

"Yes," she smiled. "I was not allowed to come without them."

"Rightly so," Edward stared at her, his green eyes bleeding to gold. "Women cannot do much for themselves now, can they?"

Scarlette felt indignant and answered before she thought about what she was doing. "Normally, yes. Most women can't do a thing without help. I am not one of these, thank you."

The energy level was rising in the room. Scarlette could feel a hot wind blowing around her as they glared at her. The only one who seemed to not dislike the answer she gave was Angel. He stood and walked towards her, his silk clothing whispering in the energy filled room.

"You truly mean these things," he smiled. "And what if we keep you here? Will you wait until the full moon and after for your men to save you?"

"They aren't my men," she answered, meeting his eyes. "And if I need to leave, I will escape myself. I don't wait for people to save me."

He moved quickly, so fast that she hardly had time to throw a hand up. They both froze, his hand hovering over her dark hair, hers clenched, blocking him at the wrist. He smiled at her, his wine red hair catching the torchlight.

"You're fast," he told her. "Had I been trying to attack you, you would have almost been fast enough."

"You're the wolf, aren't you," she asked quietly. His eyes flashed and he looked inquisitive.

"How can you tell?" he asked her, not moving away but instead, combing his long fingers through her dark hair.

"I was warned about you," she answered. "I was told that I would have trouble with a wolf. What sort of trouble remains to be seen." She was certain he was the one Unorna had spoken of. When the fires had been lit, she had seen the embroidery on the back of his garment. It was Chinese style, but it had clearly been a wolf.

He laughed then, releasing her hair and walking back to the stone chair. "Trouble? Are you asking for trouble, pirate?"

"I want no trouble," she answered carefully. "I do want the sword, however."

"You will be among us for seven days," Angel spoke to her. "Perhaps longer, depending."

"Depending on what?" she asked suspiciously.

"Depending on you," he laughed, as if the answer had been obvious. "At the end of that time, we will maybe let you borrow the sword. You must return it when you have finished with it."

"What is to stop me from keeping it?" she asked warily.

He only laughed. The others joined in. She was not really amused with the laughter but the shifters had begun to disperse, leaving through the door of trees and into the night.

Angel walked towards her. He turned her around to face the door and began to walk that way himself. "Follow me, if you want to survive this week."

Confused and a little scared but not about to show it, Scarlette followed this new person as he left through the door. The night was still dark and she had no idea how much time had passed.

"What is your name?" he asked after they had walked a little while.

"Scarlette," she answered almost immediately. He stopped and looked at her.

"No, that's not it," he told her. "You hesitated. What is your name, not what are you called?"

"How do you know I am not Scarlette?" she asked as they resumed walking.

"You do not look like one," he answered. "Nor do you sound like one."

"Well, you don't look much like an Angel."

"I'm not," he answered, unabashed. "That is what those of the tribe call me. As names go, it is not a bad one."

"You tell me your name and I'll tell you mine," she offered. He met her eyes.

"I hope to be able to tell you my name, but I cannot at this point in time," he seemed to truly believe what he was saying and Scarlette smiled.

"Very well," she answered lightly. "My name is Ryoko."

"Ryoko," he tested it out, relishing in the sound. "Much better. It explains why you could say _Tekagi-fukku_ without accent. There are not many here who can pronounce that name, but _your _name is orient as well."

"Yes," she answered. "I speak Japanese, among other languages." She had known French before she'd come to this world and basic Japanese but in tutoring a girl years back she had managed to become efficient in both Japanese and Mandarin Chinese. She knew a little Cantonese, but more Mandarin.

"And your dress is Asian as well."

She was lost in the dark woods. She knew the direction of the grand clearing, and the direction of town, but her senses were completely confused. They had come about another half a mile and walked into yet another clearing, only this one wasn't covered. There was a tipi in the center and Scarlette felt strangely nostalgic as she walked towards it with this feral man. It wasn't her own ancestry that made her feel this way. The Iroquois had built long houses, not tipis. She couldn't place it, however.

He pushed back the flap and she entered the canvas abode, removing her boots upon entering. The floor was made up of various pelts. There was a dresser against one 'wall' and a mirror hung at an angle, flush with the cloth of the tipi.

He lit a kerosene lamp and set it on top of the dresser. She noticed now that it had an iron top on it. No chance of burning, she surmised. It was pretty cold inside. She hadn't noticed until she saw the flame in the lamp.

He sat cross-legged on what she assumed was his bed. He patted a place net to him and she sat as well, careful not to touch any part of him. He handed her something rough and oddly shaped. "You are probably hungry. I did bring you far today, and without rest." She sniffed the thing he had passed her. It was smoked meat, a jerky type thing. Pemmican, she remembered. The American Indians had made it. She chewed the rough meat and ate enough to satisfy her hunger, trusting that the man beside her would not poison her.

When she was finished, she turned to him. "Thank you."

He smiled. "Perhaps soon you will not need to thank me."

Confusion once again filled Scarlette's head. "What do you mean?" If he was going to try to kill her, she would have to strike fast and hard to get away. Unfortunately, she still didn't have the sword.

He laughed at her tensed up body and she relaxed a little. "Don't worry. I only meant that I could teach you to hunt as well. You thanked me for providing your food, did you not?"

"Yes, I suppose I did," Scarlette looked at the wolf from the corner of her eye. He was odd.

She decided to change the subject. "Why must I stay here for a week?"

"You must prove your worth to us," he answered. "Most of them have women of their own, shifters like me. Women in this society have more to prove than the men."

Scarlette frowned. "Must I prove myself by shifter rules, or human?"

Angel met her eyes. "They will judge you by their own laws, you can be sure of that."

Scarlette felt uncomfortable. "How will I pass? Am I going to be called upon to do superhuman feats that I would not be able to do, given my own limited strength?"

"You are strong," he told her. "They are not used to women with strength. Some of them will not expect you to pass even the easiest of tasks. The shifter females are physically strong, not as much as the males, but then again, they do not know how to use that to their advantage. You are a woman who knows how to use strength. I watched you leap over the creek this morning. You would have truly rather fallen in and gone for a swim rather than accept that man's help."

"Well, yeah," she answered indignantly. "Makeo knows better than that. Most of the men around me learn not to try to help unless I ask for it. Makeo isn't around me as much as Will, however. Will gets it. That, and he has his own useless wife."

"Useless?"

"Well, I guess she isn't useless," Scarlette looked a little ashamed but not much. "She's just … so girly. She can be tough once in a while, but she's much more comfortable in her lacy dresses in her mansion than she is on a ship. She tried to force me into a dress once and just couldn't comprehend why I would want to wear pants instead."

Angel laughed. "I prefer pants as well." Scarlette laughed, not sure if he was kidding or not. She was quickly feeling more comfortable in her surroundings.

"What kind of animal is Edward?" she asked, really just wanting to know what had snarled at her that morning.

"He is a jaguar, not native to this part of land," Angel answered. Scarlette made a mental note to tell Unorna the difference between cats. A leopard was not a jaguar.

"You must be tired," he motioned to the bed they sat on. In reality, it was just pelts stacked higher. There was a pile of blankets next to her. "Sleep here, and I will keep watch for a while."

Scarlette felt very tired then, and as Angel got up to sit in front of the door, she felt she could trust him enough to sleep. She stretched out and found a beat up pillow to use, covering herself with the blankets. Before she fell into a deep sleep, she thought she heard the howling of a wolf far off in the distance.

…**.**

Will and Makeo made it back to the ship just as the sun was rising. They were both exhausted and near delirious. They had been escorted through the woods by two men who had turned into a giant rat and a mountain lion. They had only seen them for a moment at a time. They two had disappeared into the shadows, reemerging briefly as they men went onwards.

Naturally, they had jumped at every shadow, balked at every unfamiliar noise, and held their breaths every time something unexpected happened, daring not to make a sound, both for fear of the things that followed them in the touchable darkness, and each other's ridicule come light.

They trudged to the ship at dawn, too tired to scale the lines. They plopped down in the shade of the ship and fell asleep without too much coaxing.

They woke a few hours later as Sean and Tony started making a fuss about them sleeping in the mud. By this point, enough of their energy had been restored and they were able to climb aboard and tell the others what had happened.

"We can't just leave her there," Tony pointed out.

"Yeah," Pintel added. "Dat would be cowardly. We ain't cowards … just opportunists, right, 'Getti?"

"Uh, yeah," Ragetti answered, not really hearing the question. He was distracted by a snail that had somehow managed to slime its way to the deck.

"Well, she said not to worry too much," Makeo spoke, still too tired to contemplate going back.

"No," Will argued. "She said if she didn't return by the full moon, not to expect her. Then that Angel person told us to come back and check after the full moon to see if she was still alive. What could he have meant by that?"

Makeo sighed. He knew the ways of the shifters. Most were particular about their company, solitary hunters, but the wolf was different. The wolf was a pack hunter, and Unorna had tried warning them that he would be a danger to Scarlette and Jack. No one had asked why, or if they had, there hadn't been an answer. Makeo had a hunch about that danger and knew why Angel had laughed about the full moon.

They would return the day after the full moon and find Scarlette alive, that was to be sure. There was no telling what sort of state she'd be in besides that. For sure, she'd be dancing an odd tango with the shifters for the next week. If she survived, she would come back with Makeo and Will. If she happened to fail … well, everything would certainly be more interesting.

Makeo laughed to himself, imaging what Scarlette might think if she failed. She might almost welcome the arrival of Davy Jones after the shifters were done with her.

Makeo snapped out of his thoughts and realized everyone was waiting for an answer from him. "What? Sorry, I'm still drowsy. Did you ask something?"

"Why would they want us to return after the full moon?" Will was persistent.

Makeo decided it would be best for everyone's survival if he edited himself before they heard everything. "Beats me. Could be, they don't want to escort her back themselves. Or maybe it'll take that long to get the sword from where ever they've been keeping it. These guys don't sweat distances much, as you may have noticed. We walked well over twenty miles yesterday, and that was one way." At the mention of such a distance, Sean and Tony dropped their jaws.

"You guys walked forty miles?" Tony exclaimed.

"Damn! No wonder you fell asleep in the mud there," Sean was making faces. "Don't your legs hurt?"

The two men in question looked at each other, sharing a rare camaraderie. Of course their legs hurt, but they weren't about to complain about it. Makeo was a little miffed about arriving at the shifter's lair the night before and finding that Scarlette had been in better shape than he had.

He decided to sleep the day away and guard the ship at night. Will opted for the same plan and they both retired to hammocks below as the other men milled about, going to town for food instead of making use of the ship's galley. It was all well, since the ship was tilted. It would have made preparing meals strange anyways.

And so, day twenty-two was spent rather leisurely, at least for the men it was.

The women of this story were not so lucky.

…**.**

The five women in the future were having a _very_ interesting time indeed. They had watched the movie repeatedly to get absolutely every fact to sink in, and in the process, certain members of the group had turned rather violently against each other. Robin and Elizabeth were naturally at each other's throats, and for once, it was not over Will or Norrington. It was over Captain Jack Sparrow.

"I'm telling you, the film doesn't lie. In that situation, you would have done it."

"I would _never _have applied myself to that loathsome wretch! Not even to save everyone else!"

"Not now, maybe, because he's married," Robin snarled. "But if you were both relatively single, you would not see it as betrayal. You're just as ruthless as any of the pirates and this movie showed that you don't have to be all cute and delicate all the time. If you practiced more of what _this_ Elizabeth did, you wouldn't have to be saved all the time."

"Would you two knock it off?" Claudia exclaimed. "Get over it. Elizabeth kissed Jack Sparrow. It was just a movie, it didn't happen. Guess what else I don't want to happen? Yeah, the kraken taking down _the Pearl_. That is something we have to work on. We came back for answers, did we not?"

"Tia Dalma," Kristin pointed out, freezing the screen on the black toothed voodoo priestess. "She's gotta be that third woman. Unorna and Libussa always elude to another woman of their ilk. She even looks like them. When we get back, we'll have to tell Jack that she can answer his questions."

"Why haven't we been to see her before, though?" Claudia asked. "It seems she's easier to get answers out of than Libussa and Unorna."

"Jack's terrified of her," Chelsea answered as if it had never been in question. "Think back. Every time the sisters weird mentioned their third member, he shivered like he didn't want to think about it. In the movie, he waited as long as he possibly could, until he had no avenue before going to her for help."

"Had he truly exhausted all points of escape?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well, yeah," Chelsea ticked off some events on her fingers. "Beckett and the East India Trading Company were everywhere, that he knew before Will, Norrington, or you showed up. He found the spices, remember? The Pelegostos were going to eat him. The kraken and Davy Jones were all over the sea … where else was he going to go? He had to face the problem or die trying."

"Well, what can we possibly do?" Robin asked. "We have information on what happened without the influence of the future gang, and this story takes place only a year after the first movie. That was right when we arrived. Why didn't Davy Jones show up?"

"I've been wondering that as well," Chelsea confided. "I have a few theories on that. If you count up the years you guys have been involved, you get ten and some change. Jack was captain of _The Black Pearl _of only two years before you guys met him. Which means, if you add all the years he was captain _on the Pearl itself_ … we'd be coming up on thirteen pretty soon here."

"So … you're saying that Jones in the timeline we've managed to alter is just a lot more generous?" Kristin clarified.

"Yes," Chelsea answered. "Bootstrap falls under the same idea. He had been cursed until a certain point, and by then, he was on land, out of reach, and relatively unimportant. But how did he get to land? Notice he has always expressed thalassaphobia when the others were leaving somewhere."

"The loss of what phobia?" Claudia asked. Chelsea laughed until she realized the other girl was serious.

"Thalassaphobia is the fear of the ocean," she answered. "Bootstrap must have made a deal with Jones as well, to get himself to land before the curse was lifted. I guess he just figured he'd never go to sea and not have to deal with the debt. He didn't think he'd be important enough to lure Jones to land." She pointed at the DVD player. "In this line of events, he went directly into service on _the Dutchman_."

"So …" Elizabeth looked very interested. "What do you think is going to happen in our timeline?"

Chelsea looked on the edge. Her eyes were wide and she smiled, as if she were on to something. Detecting storylines was a small passion of hers. "Well, there had been some interesting looks between Jack and Bootstrap lately, so I think they know what's going on. I'm not sure exactly what triggered their dual panic, but something reminded them of Davy Jones." She thought a moment and made a loud sound that could have been an 'aha!' but sounded more like an 'oye'.

She looked over at Elizabeth and then at Robin, her eyebrows furrowed. "The kraken showed up that one night … but that was after they had already started acting strange. _The Flying Dutchman_ is a ship that travels both above water and underwater, correct? It's covered in all sorts of aquatic things. Now, follow me here. What _other_ ship have we seen that has that appearance?"

"The ship Scarlette showed up in was overgrown as well," Elizabeth answered, thinking hard. "But what are you trying to say?"

"Maybe Scarlette is some weird underwater bad guy too?" Kristin suggested, mostly in jest. Robin was looking scared. She met Chelsea's eyes and shook her head.

"No way," she said in a deep voice. "You can't be serious. She wouldn't actually do it, would she?"

"Chelsea?" Claudia grabbed the smaller girl's sleeve, also having grasped the situation. "You don't know Ryo like we do. She's not stupid."

Chelsea nodded. "I know, but she does love Jack for all his faults, and if what I think happened is right, then he was in extreme danger when she made this decision."

"What would that decision be?" Elizabeth was not as stupid as she seemed to be at the moment, but a lot of the future things still distracted her.

Chelsea smiled but not in happiness. "Scarlette didn't get _the Bounty _as part of the _Langue de Serpente's_ treasure. She was stranded on the island, remember? How did she get off the island?"

No one spoke but there were sad looks around the room. They all knew the ending of the story now. Chelsea continued.

"She made a deal with Jones. He raised up a sunken ship for her that just happened to be filled with treasure. It was an excellent cover story. She'd brought the treasure and managed to escape the island to ride to the rescue of Jack, and us for that matter. But she's just as cursed as Jack and Bootstrap. Somehow, they knew what she had done. She certainly didn't tell them."

"What about the sword?" Robin asked. "Where did that come from?"

Chelsea shrugged. "I have no idea. It could have been part of the treasure, it could have come off _the Dutchman_. The latter seems likely. She may have had to tell Jones about her mission to get him to agree and it makes sense that upon hearing about Jack's dilemma, he would tell her about her husband's own debt to him, and the time limit that went with it. I don't know why he would give her a sword, but it would make sense for him, the equivalent of a sea god, to have a magical sword fused with elemental water powers."

"Maybe Jack is such a valuable soul to him that he would want to help Ryoko kill Barbossa to make sure Jack's soul would be available to him," Robin suggested. Chelsea put a hand to her cheek in thought.

"I didn't think of that," she tapped her head. "That's a good idea. It might even be true."

"That doesn't explain why the kraken showed up that night, though," Kristin pointed out.

"Yeah," Claudia agreed. "If Davy Jones was after all three of them, why didn't the kraken attack us?"

"He doesn't want them harmed," Chelsea answered. "He wants them intact to serve their sentence."

"So … Jack and Bootstrap have almost no time, right?" Robin asked. "Ryoko has nearly thirteen years, right?"

Chelsea shrugged. "I would assume so, but by the same logic that dictates him being generous about Jack's years on _the Pearl_, he may not take her at all. She only captained _the Bounty _for about three weeks, right?"

"We have no way of knowing any of this," Claudia shook her head. "I think we need to make a list of things that have happened in _both_ timelines and see what happened because of that, at least in the movie. It may be able to help us predict at least sort of what could happen in ours."

"Well, starting at the beginning," Chelsea began. "Elizabeth and Will were arrested by Beckett for aiding Jack. Will was offered a bargain if he recovered the compass. Letters of Marque and everything."

"Yeah, and Will found Jack about to be eaten by cannibals," Robin smirked. "Well, we already covered the cannibals."

"No, we didn't," Claudia interjected. "The movies ones were the _Pelegostos_. The ones we dealt with before were called something else, and they didn't like men."

"The Mekwahz," Chelsea supplied. "Different culture." She thought a moment. "It's possible that Jack and the others are on that island right now running from the cannibals, but part of me doesn't think that's what's going on. Beckett was angry about a cloth key being stolen by Scarlette before we left. I surmise that he was in possession of the key Jack found at the Turkish prison in the movie. Scarlette, following Unorna's words, "_Pick up the keys to your next adventure,_" couldn't resist."

"We're getting off track here," Claudia growled. "What else happened in the movie that happened back there?"

Chelsea thought for a moment. "Isla de Muerta was destroyed, so there was no avenue there. Elizabeth escaped, but not in the same fashion. She didn't acquire the Letters, and so Jack will not have them. Norrington is … well, we don't know if Scarlette's still parading him about like an intelligent marionette or if she's put him to sleep. Either way, he's dead, so there won't be interference there. We have to assume that Jones will be making an appearance within the next month, because according to my calculations, we're cutting it damn close.

"All in all, not much is the same," she ended. "Because Isla de Muerta has gone under, we hope to assume Barbossa won't be coming back, but Tia Dalma managed to acquire his body in the movie. Cross your fingers if he does make yet another appearance, that he won't be hostile for once."

"Anamaria wasn't in the second movie," Kristin pointed out. "That much was the same. She died early on, before Jones even began to try to be a problem."

"Whatever happens," Robin spoke with courage. "We're going to be there to see it. We should head back as soon as we can. It's already been a month and a half."

The others agreed and Elizabeth shivered. She hoped Will didn't get too far involved. She didn't want to have to watch _the Dutchman_ submerge with her love on its slimy decks.

…**.**

Jack growled in frustration. They were almost to New York, but the timing was such, that he had hoped to catch the other ship by that point. Sao Feng was ever patient, as he was prone to be, but he had since mentioned a fear to Jack. Beckett was looking for something that had to do with hindering pirates all around. There were very few things that could do something like that, most of them either well known, or well guarded.

Jack had dismissed it upon hearing it, at least while in front of the Chinese captain. Later, he had pondered it. Beckett was searching for something. As far as Jack knew, Beckett was in Port Royal and would probably remain there for a while. Whatever it was, he wasn't actively searching for it.

A more pressing matter at hand however, was some mysterious ailment that had befallen most of the men aboard _the Pearl_. They were drowning in an unexplainable lust. Stuck at sea with no female companionship could only count for so much. Most of the men who felt besotted for apparently no reason were not men who usually succumbed to loneliness so easily.

Of course, the only woman aboard at the moment was Ruby, and she was stuck in the bilge constantly. Jack found himself unaffected for some reason, and this tipped him off. Ruby was part siren and Jack, through an interesting turn of events when he was younger, had discovered that he was immune to most sirenic powers. He sent someone to bring her up to the top deck, just for experimental purposes.

It took longer than it should have for them to appear, which confirmed Jack's suspicions.

"Ruby, you need to stop projecting this on my men," he told her. When her blonde head had cleared the cargo hold, a majority of the men aboard had turned with drooling expressions to watch her.

"I cannot just stop," she answered, giggling girlishly. "Unless I send the pent up energy elsewhere."

Jack frowned and looked over at the other ship. Sao Feng was watching them closely, noticing for the first time that there was indeed a woman on board _the Pearl_. Jack waved and the ships prepared to communicate.

When Sao Feng touched down on the deck of _the Pearl_, Jack smiled, actually glad to see the man before him. He had an idea.

There were many more men aboard _The Empress_ … and none of them were going to be too sad if they got munched on.

"How would you feel if I lent you this lovely woman for your … ship's uses?" Jack asked, pushing Ruby in front of him. She regarded the Asian captain with guarded eyes. Sao Feng walked through her pheromone-like powers without the slightest blink.

"What are her uses?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something," Jack cracked. Sao Feng hiked up an eyebrow but left to his ship, Ruby following. As soon as the gangplank rose and returned as well, the cloud of lust lifted, gradually, but by the next hour, it was gone.

Jack shook his head. "We really should have just killed her."

…**.**

Scarlette stirred, feeling as if she were in an oven. The heat was stifling and she had woken herself up, her body trying to cool itself.

The light was dim and she was not fully awake yet. Nestling into the comfort of the bed she slept on, she blinked lazily and nearly drifted off again. A strong arm tightened around her waist and at first, she didn't realize anything. After a moment, memories flooded back and she sat up in a most confused manner, the rush of blood to her head making her dizzy.

She was in a tipi, not a ship's cabin, and the man beside her was not at all who she had assumed it was upon stirring in her sleep. Angel was curled up beside her, shirtless and still unconscious, his hair unbound and splayed in a shiny wave. He rolled over, giving her his back.

She began to calm down, thinking perhaps that it was not as drastic as it had seemed. She was fully clothed after all, and it was not as if he had meant to cuddle up to her. People often did odd things in their sleep. She was a little embarrassed by the situation but realized he had said he would watch the door _for a while_. She had not asked him any questions about what he would do after that while was finished.

She decided going outside might be beneficial, at least until her lupine guide woke for the day. She pushed the covers away from her and noticed she still had all her weaponry on. She must have been very tired indeed to have slept in everything. She moved carefully over Angel's still sleeping form, bent on going outside, for more than just fresh air.

She was careful not to touch him, but shifters have senses humans could only dream about. As she was passing over him to leave, his arms flew up and locked behind her back. His eyes snapped open and met hers with a small growl trickling out of his lips. He seemed to recognize her but his words, though neutral, sent shivers up her spine.

"Good morning, little pirate," he growled.

…**.**

I'm still wide awake at 3:51 am, on April 21st. Alice starts in about 12 hours. Mullins will be the Mad Hatter and Tweedledum, and Sheikh Abu will be the caterpillar and the King of Hearts. Danya will be the white rabbit … I don't think any of the other characters made it into the show. Rokell is the Gryphon. Lenore is playing a card (3 of Hearts) and Keira is the Ace of Spades as well as the 'Stunt' Alice. Dobereiner is the March Hare and Tweedledee.

Oh, shit! I forgot. Page count coming up. We are at 444, ladies and gentlemen. I wish I could publish this crap. It'd be nice to make money, for once in my life.


	18. Chapter XVII: Biting Jaws, Catching Claw

So, I slept until almost 6 pm the other day. My body is reacting strangely lately. A weird burn mark appeared in the center of my chest … I don't remember being burned. There is another explanation for how it could have appeared there … however, since there is no way to stop _that_ particular thing from happening, if it is the case, I don't see any use in worrying about it.

I just want to say that Tom Lehrer is a funny guy. It just goes to show that I'm not the only one who understands my humor. Smart people are funny, man.

**Chapter XVII –Biting Jaws, Catching Claws**

Scarlette froze, her eyes locked to Angel's. His arms, as one may remember, were clasped behind her back. She was very startled and was not sure what her response was supposed to be at this point.

"Good morning, little pirate," he had growled, and this time, the word growled was not used as loosely as before.

"Um … morning," she answered awkwardly. "Mind letting me go?" The center of her back was starting to hurt where his fingers dug in, and she wasn't sure why.

"A bit, actually?" he answered, but he opened his arms and allowed her to step away. She moved quickly and perhaps triggered the predator within him, for he followed her movements fluidly. Before she realized exactly what was happening, she was backed up against the dresser and he was crouched before her, his eyes having bled to a pure golden color. Human eyes did not come in that particular flavor.

She felt compelled to crouch as well, but remained standing, resisting the urge to draw a weapon. "Are you feeling all right?" she asked him nervously.

"I'm feeling spectacular," he growled. He moved closer and she drew back. He rushed her, surging to his feet. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Don't run," his voice had taken on such a feral bass timbre that the sound was felt more in her ribs than heard in her ears. He brought up a hand to hover near her face. The nails had darkened and slightly elongated, almost as if claws were peeking out of human fingers. "Running is … _exciting_."

Scarlette was not amused. "I am_ not _your food, Angel. Go hunt a deer, or something." She threw her voice deep as she could and stood straight, making herself look as big as she could manage. Scaring cougars away was simply a matter of making oneself too big or too noisy to eat. Perhaps it would work with the wolf.

He laughed and backed down, but not enough to still Scarlette's nerves. "No, you are not food, are you. But can you prove you are not food?"

She looked warily down at his crouched position. "How does one prove they are not food?"

"Your first test," he grinned, and some of his teeth had lengthened to points as well. "Put your weapons aside and join me."

"Join you how?" she asked, making sure this time that she wouldn't be getting into anything she didn't want to.

"Learn to fight as we fight," he answered, tossing his thick hair back out of his face. "Discard your weapons, Ryoko."

She was not happy about it, but she removed the coat, along with both swords, a dagger, a pistol, and whatever had been nestled in the pockets of the coat. When this had been done, she stood there, feeling vulnerable without her weapons or her boots. She piled her sash with the weaponry as well.

"What now?" she asked, clenching her fists before her, bracing herself.

He smirked. "Come here."

She was apprehensive. He seemed almost to be a different person today. She had trusted him last night, but now, there was something dangerous about the way his eyes took her in. She approached cautiously, not getting down to a crouch to match, but side stepping carefully, her eyes on his. They had returned to brown, which was a small comfort.

He licked his bottom lip briefly before lunging towards her. She jumped over him, using his shoulder as a vault, and landed just behind him, one leg prepared. He turned towards her and she let fly with a kick that might have broken through a human's defense. As it was, he cross blocked it and wrenched her down at the same moment, using her ankle as an anchor.

She attempted to roll away, but he pinned her shoulders down and bent his neck, breathing hot air against her throat. He growled, a long trickle of sound that seemed to echo through her throat and into the ground.

"Never bare your throat to an enemy," he breathed against her skin. She swallowed and made the next movement precise and quick. She spear-tipped her fingers and jabbed them into _his_ throat, rolling away from him to regain a position of dignity. She faced him, ready to do damage if she had to, for she'd begun to figure this game out. She would need to survive as a dominant figure to attain her goal, female or not.

If only she had understood _the entire_ game. Angel, rubbing his throat as he watched her, didn't give any warning to his attack this time. He was suddenly upon her and she fell easily, feeling claws scrabbling at her back as she turned her vital areas away from attack. She thought she imagined the tearing pain of the claws, that perhaps it was a projection like that of Edwards snarling cat, but the feel of teeth in the back of her neck was real. She lost consciousness shortly afterwards, falling into a deep, dark pit, filled with the sounds of howling.

…**.**

The sounds of night slowly came to her ears. Crickets chirped in the stillness and some other sort of night insect cried its nocturnal story to the sky. Frogs sang in a nearby pond and an owl hooted sleepily as it rustled it feathers and blinked. Everything was hyper-focused for a moment. Scarlette blinked and everything seemed to snap into place.

She was alone, of that she was almost certain. There were no sounds of breathing, no sense of movement. She was lying on her stomach, head turned, arms up near her face. She tried to remember what had happened, but her mind didn't recall much. She shivered and realized her arms were bare. On her torso, she was down to the last thing she had taken from the future, a black tank top.

Her back felt stiff for some reason, and she had not even moved yet. Perhaps lying on her stomach was explanation. She made a pushup motion with her hands and made it her knees before the pain reached her mind.

Something was definitely wrong. She fought not to writhe in pain. Her back felt as if it had been torn up and she felt the press of bandages, wrapped around her body. She gasped and sat back on her legs, trying not to move too much. Whatever had happened, it had hurt. The night air was cool, but she felt a tendril of liquid trickle down the back of her neck. She wiped a hand across her neck under her hair and felt a sharp sting there as well. She brought her hand to the fore and looked at her fingers. In the dim light, she could see that the liquid was dark.

She felt along her neck again. There were strange abrasions there, in a relatively small area, arranged in a sort of semi-circle. It hadn't had much time to heal, whatever it was.

What the hell had happened to her? She thought back a ways, remembering that she had ended up in a tipi without her friends … and Angel, the wolf had been there. As if on cue, Angel stepped through the flap and looked at her.

She remembered then, that she had been fighting him earlier before she had passed out, and since she never just fainted for any old reason, she assumed it had something to do with his unique powers.

"You're awake now, I see," he opened up a bag he'd kept near the dresser and handed her more of the dried meat she'd eaten the night before. "Here. Eat this. It will make you stronger. Here's some water."

She accepted the things from him but did not partake, though her stomach was angry and her throat was parched. "What is going on?" she asked roughly.

He sat in front of her and busied himself with a piece of leather. He seemed to be making it into something, but she was too distressed to take much notice of it. "What do you mean?"

She scowled. "I mean, what happened today? I'm all torn up and I've been unconscious for hours. This is _not_ routine for me and I want to know why it happened?"

He looked at her in a way that seemed more feminine than masculine due to the long hair that framed his face. "How much do you remember?"

She had already thought about this herself and was quick with an answer. "You were teaching me how to fight as '_you'_ fight, but I don't think I quite understood. I assumed there would be some light contact."

He nodded. "We fought, you lost."

She narrowed her green eyes and hissed. "The _hell _I lost. You didn't explain the rules."

He met her eyes and smiled as if her anger didn't matter. "I did too. You just didn't understand."

"Yeah, sure," she shook her head. "But you didn't try to hard to explain either. How hurt am I?"

He went back to the leather. "Not very. You may have scars … but then again, odds are you won't."

"If I had known it would be that real of a fight," she spoke softly, "I would _not _have lost."

He laughed and dropped the leather, crawling nearer to her. She didn't move. "You think you would have beaten me? A tiny little piratess like you?"

She met his eye and showed she was serious. "I don't lose fights. Not to you, not to anyone. Size is not a factor, nor is my gender."

"We don't fight with weapons, Ryoko," he told her in a chastising way. "Nor do you, when you are among us."

"If you do not fight with weapons," she began, remembering her quest. "Then why do you have the _Tekagi-fukku_? You must not need it with a rule like that."

"That sword has been in possession of this clan for a very long time," he answered. "There may be a foe we'll need to use it on, someday. But for now, no weapons. If you want to fight, then by all means, fight." He nudged her arm with his shoulder and she ignored the wave of pain that went through her back.

She moved away, using as little motion as was possible. She hardly had time to duck as he lunged towards her. She felt the skin around her wounds give as she bent uncomfortably. He landed and turned for another run at her.

"What are you doing?" she shouted, stumbling to her feet and facing him, full of pain and rage.

"You called fight, and then did not guard," he growled, his eyes glinting in the darkness. "Another potentially fatal mistake."

"You want a fight, eh?" she placed herself in a stance, ignoring the screaming pain from her back. "Well, let's go, then."

He laughed loudly, and the end of his mirth curled into a howl that sent shivers up her spine, causing the wounds to twitch. He came for her, quickly. She almost couldn't focus on his movements, he was so fast, his limbs blurring in the speed of motion. She jumped, adrenaline giving her the extra boost she needed. She came down, feet aimed accordingly, but when she landed, he was not there.

Something hit her hard, about hip height, and bowled her over. She hit the floor with a sickening thump and all the breath went from her lungs. This was a mixed blessing, for she would have fought not to scream, had she the air to do so.

As she struggled with the lack of air and the extreme pain, he bent over her. His long hair was like a curtain, sliding along her bare arm as she lay on her side, eyes tightly shut. Her breath shivered out of her throat tentatively.

He crouched over her and smiled, speaking into her ear. "Is this the sort of trouble you were warned about?"

She did not answer, but opened her eyes. Her pupils slid sideways, looking up at him without moving her head. She felt like a mouse pinned beneath the paw of a cat.

He laughed shortly and drew even closer, speaking into her ear still, his lips brushing the shell of it. His breath made her want to squirm away. "Do not be discouraged. Soon, you will be able to fight me for real. Now is not the time."

She struck out, without warning, driving her right arm hard up into him, just under his sternum. He rose up to his knees. She surged upwards with the blow and used his unbalanced form to her advantage, toppling him. He fell and she immediately tried to pin him instead, but she was far too small. He reacted with an ungodly speed and pushed her to the ground with one hand, rolling over to give himself the advantage.

Finding herself on her stomach again, his hand at the back of her neck, she tried to force herself up. He moved his hand to her back and kept her on the ground. She bit her lip to keep from screaming as his hand pushed into the wounds. He lifted his hand, now wet with blood and sat on her legs, pushing her shoulders down instead. She finally laid still, her hands in fists near her face. He leaned over her again, his face hovering near hers.

"I suggest you stop struggling, now," he told her. His hair smelled like jasmine. "You have been unconscious for two days, not merely hours. If you do not get food in your system soon, you may not survive. Wounds made by our claws do not heal normally and you are losing blood again."

Scarlette made another feeble pushup motion and he gently pushed her back to the ground after she'd gained a few inches. "Stay, or you will injure yourself further."

"I only want the sword," she whimpered, hating the way her voice sounded. Her next words were stronger, deeper, more herself. "I must have that blade. Just let me have it, and I will leave."

He sniffed along her back and neck. "I am not in charge of the sword entirely. You must pass our tests."

She pushed up on her arms again and was returned to the ground. "Let me go."

To her surprise, he got to his feet and allowed her to rise as well. She stood, shakily and assumed a stance, in case he was going to surprise her again.

"Where is it kept?" she asked. He shook his head.

"I know better than to tell you that," he answered, watching her sway. She took an agonizing step forward and brandished her fist, as if she were going to beat the information out of him. Her next step was caught by the unevenness of the floor, and she toppled forward.

Angel caught her and lowered them both to the floor. She tried pushing him away, but was far too weak at that point.

He cradled her and brought forth the skein of water he'd handed her earlier, wetting her lips with it. "Drink."

"I don't need your help," she told him, gripping the skein herself and attempting to sit up. She curled her legs around her and sat, bent over herself. She drank some of the water. Angel did not move, perched on his legs around her. He offered her the dried meat and placed his hands on his bent knees, so close he was hovering. She chewed a small piece and ignored him even as his breath caressed her hair.

"I have been unconscious for two days," she repeated. "Why?"

"Human bodies react strangely with lycanthrope wounds," he answered, touching her arm and turning her so he could look at her back. She resisted and he growled. She froze at the growl. "I am going to look at your wounds. Unless you want to twist uncomfortably, you must face the other way."

"You could have asked instead of trying to push me," she snapped. "Do you have a mirror? I want to look at them as well."

"Yes, but first, allow me." She waited, sipping the water as he lifted her shirt. She pressed her hands to her breasts to keep the fabric below them, at least in the front. He unwound the bandages and made thoughtful sounds.

"What?" she asked, turning her head.

"They are healing rapidly, much faster than normal," he sounded pleased and she'd have given a lot to see his face. He brought the mirror from the dresser and positioned it behind her. She craned her neck, trying to see.

She gasped. The gashes were horrible. It didn't even look real because it seemed so bad. The edges of the wounds were jagged and some of the claw marks were still bleeding. She could however, see that it had been exceptionally worse before. There were shiny pink beginnings of scars near the edges, as if the marks had initially been wider. She wondered if the rapid healing was an after effect of the necromancy, or perhaps the taint of the sword.

"This is a wound under the category of 'not too bad' to you?" she asked him, angry. "No wonder it hurts so badly."

"Does it?" he asked. "You have not screamed once since I arrived." She did not speak and he laughed. "Ah, such a die-hard."

"You say that like you know," she growled. He smiled and shrugged, managing to make the move look graceful.

"I will re-bandage the wounds and then you should try to get more rest."

"Should I?" she asked angrily. "I'm starting to think you won't ever give me a chance at the sword."

He gave her a serious look. "After the full moon, if you still have need of the sword, you may have it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, truly alarmed now. "You wouldn't kill me just to keep it, would you?"

"No," he answered in an incredulous tone, as if that had never been a possibility.

"Would the others?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

His response made her frown. "Then what did you mean? I will have a need for that blade as long as Davy Jones roams the ocean."

He smiled at her. "Davy Jones cannot touch you if you are out of his reach. This is one of the few places he will not go. If you stay here, you will be safe."

"I don't want to stay here," she answered, a tad bit flattered. "No offense, but I can't live among the shifters forever. I need to get back to my business, preferably with that sword."

"Whether you stay or not may not be up to you," he answered, unrolling a wad of bandages. "We will see soon."

She stood up and started pacing, the blood on her back flowing faster as her heart rate picked up. "What the hell are you saying? I need the sword to defeat Davy Jones so I can go back to my life."

He stood, placing the bandages in a neat pile. "What I am saying," he spoke as he walked towards her. "Is that every shifter for a wide radius of land and sea is here to stay. Davy Jones would not dare attack us."

"And I will tell you again," she faced him stubbornly. "I am not going to stay here. I have a life to get back to and if you won't give me the sword, then I suppose two out of three will not be so bad, if the others have succeeded in getting _Kuroi-agohige_."

"You misunderstand me," he told her, drawing close enough to make her back up against the wall. "You may not be able to leave here."

"Why the hell not?"

He sighed. "All shifters belong to this clan, no matter how dominant."

Something clicked, but she had to hear him say it before she drew her conclusions to a close. "You said my wounds were healing quickly. Why would they heal so fast?"

He nodded. "You see what I am getting at, then. The moon will show for certain."

She frowned. "I am not a shifter."

He moved away. "We shall see." He picked up the bandages and turned back to her. He was between her and the flap. "Come. I will put these on and then we will talk." He was smiling.

She'd had enough. "Why are you happy about this?"

"This clan has not had an actual dominant female before. I am proud."

She moved closer, hoping to dodge past and get away. "Why should you be proud?"

"It is only fitting that I should be proud," he answered. "I will be the only one with a powerful mate."

Scarlette balked. "Excuse me? I am not your mate." She eyed the flap but realized her weapons, including _Aoi-rozuka_ were all on the other side of him. If she went for those, she'd never escape, and she couldn't leave without them.

He patted the ground next to him. "Come here so I may tend you. We are the only wolves of this clan. There is nothing else for you."

"I am not a wolf," she answered defiantly, not moving from her spot. "And what's more, I'm married. I'm flattered, really, but I am unavailable."

"There is no ring on your hand," he pointed out. "Besides, will your husband want you if you are a shifter?"

"He'd _better_, and besides, I am _not_ a shifter."

"Then explain your rapid healing."

"Why don't you explain how I could be a shifter now if I wasn't when I came here?" She didn't feel like explaining cursed swords or necromantic powers.

He smiled and shook his head as if she were a child. "You have been torn by my claws and bitten by teeth that belonged in the mouth of my lupine form." He was entirely too happy for it to have been an accident.

She fell to her knees. "It was your _plan_ all along, wasn't it? Why have you done this? You knew what you were doing! You meant to mark me. Why?"

He came over to her, bandages in hand, and she did not move as he began to tend to the wounds. He used the water from the skein to wipe at the edges. "You are strong, strong enough to protect yourself and our cubs if I am away."

"Cubs?" she sounded tired. "I am not a wolf! There must be a mistake." She sounded fairly delirious now. "Unorna and Makeo said the shifters only wanted weak women …."

"Most of them do," he answered, beginning to wrap her up again now that he had cleaned her back. "But the humans managed to kill a few of the other women before. I knew when you jumped the creek that you would not be killed by any angry villager. I wanted someone strong, and I'm willing to do almost anything."

"There are other strong women out there," Scarlette was drifting now, near sleep. The feel of hands at her back was comforting. "You don't want me."

He lifted her limp form up carefully and placed her on the bed, rolling her to her stomach and arranging her arms. "But you are everything I want. You are strong, you are beautiful, you are intelligent, and most importantly, you will be wolf in five days."

"I am not a wolf."

He sat beside her and laughed again. "Then what are you, little pirate?"

She whispered something nearly inaudible. "Sparrow."

…**.**

Jack woke up on the nineteenth day with a headache. He sat up, groaning about it and did not feel better until he had drained a bottle of the lovely liquid he pined for. Rum was a cure all for Jack, sort of like mushrooms were for Mario, and water was for the Prince of Persia.

They were only three or four days away from New York and Jack could hardly wait. At first, he'd been afraid that Sao Feng would kill him. Now he was afraid that the Asian captain would adopt him and ask questions forever. Not only that, the Chinese pirate lord had a thing for Greek goddesses. He seemed convinced that Ruby was Aphrodite, the goddess of love, and was ever so thrilled to have her aboard _The Empress_. His men were happier, even if they were a bit tired.

Jack had started to have a sinking feeling about the whole thing. It was so close to Jones' arrival, he hadn't really given much thought to it, but now he knew Davy Jones was not the only problem on his massive list of issues. There was this strange intangible fear underlying everything, like a strange flavor to food one couldn't place. He didn't know why such a fear should exist.

There were a few reasons why it _might_, however.

_The Empress_ was a vibrant shadow behind _the Pearl_. Jack watched the warship follow them and thought about the sword on board. _Kuroi-agohige_, the red sword of fire, would be his to wield, but would it affect him as its water counterpart had Scarlette? They had both killed before without much remorse, but the cold killing of Barbossa by Scarlette was on a whole new sociopathic level.

Bootstrap looked glum as well. He wanted no part in this sword business. If Jones found him, he would go and play his time on _The Flying Dutchman_, just as he said he would all those years ago. He would not endanger everyone just so he might live until he died.

Jack was not so noble. In his mind, he was constantly devising ways to outwit the scourge of the sea. He had talked his way out of traps before. Maybe if he dressed like a woman … no. That only seemed to work on British soldiers and EITC officials (Beckett). Davy Jones hailed from Scotland supposedly and was not stupid by any stretch of the word, even if he was unpleasant.

Not that Jack was particular favorable to wearing women's clothing. He just had his priorities, and staying alive, or at least _among_ the living was a large priority to him. He almost wished he still had some of that magic powder that had been thrown on him. That would be a very _convincing _disguise. He still looked like himself, but he had been so obviously female, and rather attractive, that not many would know.

Davy Jones was immortal, as far as Jack knew, and with that came certain magical knowledge. Odds are, Jones could 'see' the souls that were his upon seeing the bodies. He would probably know that Jack was there, no matter what he was disguised as at the time. Jack was not particularly fond of being stuck in that form either. He didn't think warm water was very abundant on _The Flying Dutchman_.

He flipped open his compass and frowned. The needle spun a little wildly but finally came to rest in one general direction. It was pointed North, for once, and Jack looked in the direction. Scarlette was in that direction … but then again, so was the nice bottle of rum he'd just pulled out as well.

The secret of Jack's compass was not so secret to a few people. The compass did not point to Isla de Muerta as Will and Elizabeth and even Scarlette thought. Gibbs, Jack and oddly, Cutler Beckett knew exactly where it pointed.

Jack had traded at one point with a powerful voodoo priestess for the compass because it showed not one's heart's desire, but what one happened to want most at any given point in time. Many people did not understand the difference, like thinking lust and love were the same thing. Jack didn't like explaining the compass' function to many because it was invaluable.

It had taken him a while to get used to thinking of what he _wanted_ most. Often when he was in captivity, the needle pointed wildly simply because what he wanted most was to be free, and that did not come with a specific cardinal direction, unless of course he was thinking of _the Pearl_, which in his mind was congruent with freedom.

He sipped the rum and thought of Scarlette, hoping she had secured the sword by that point. If he had only known just how much trouble she was in, he'd have been more worried.

…**.**

Scarlette awoke again to the sounds of nature, but they were no longer nocturnal noises that roused her. She blinked her green eyes open, staring at the tipi wall. She turned onto her side, continuing to stare at the canvas as she tried to devise a way of discerning the whereabouts of the sword. She felt movement behind her, but she did not turn, not wanting to wrench her wounds any more than necessary.

She felt heat against her back a second before a warm body pressed gently behind her from head to toe. A strong arm snaked its way over her waist and along her stomach, skipping over other areas and resting on her collarbone, the fingers touching her neck. Angel nuzzled her ear.

She had frozen at his touch, knowing there was no real point to throwing him off. He was stronger, by far, and she was wounded. She didn't want her condition to worsen to the point of constant exhaustion if she could help it. She still needed to gain the sword.

She wondered if asking him to leave her alone would work or if she should just ignore him. He had buried his face into the back of her hair and seemed to have gone back to sleep, his arms around her. She tried to move away, now that he was asleep, but both arms, the one curved over her, and the other, beneath her, curled and pulled her against him in a most possessive way.

She sighed and gave up trying to heave him off her. All the hairs on her body attempted to detach and hide elsewhere when a voice rang out. "Need some help?"

The voice had come from directly above her. She looked up carefully and noticed Morgan floating there. "Morgan! _Can _you help me?"

"No," he answered. "Not personally, anyways. I can't manipulate solid objects. How did you get into this … predicament?"

"I'm not exactly sure," she answered, attempting to shift Angel once more. He cuddled into her and murmured in his sleep. "How did you get here? Is _the Pearl _here?"

"No, it's still a few days away."

"Damn." She turned her head with some difficulty.

"Wolfie sure seems awfully attached to you. Have you told him about Jack?"

"Yes," she answered, feeling a little indignant to be having a conversation with a ghost while trapped to the front of a man's body. "It didn't seem to faze him much. He seems to think I'm going to be a shifter and I'll have to stay here with him."

"Why does he think you're going to be a shifter?"

"I'm healing faster than a human should be. That, and he sort of cut me to ribbons during a supposed 'training session'. I think he meant to do it." She brightened suddenly. "You would know! Did I gain any recuperative powers from the necromantic abilities?"

Morgan frowned. "No. You can feed on the energy of the dead, but it must be a conscious choice, and only if you know the corpse's name. You're too far away from any dead person you know, right?"

"Yeah," she looked downcast. "Then it must be the sword still staining me."

"I don't know what it is," he answered. "But I will tell you this. I can 'see' this man's aura, if you will. There is a distinct shape around him, and it looks like a wolf. You have a similar pattern, but it doesn't have such a defined shape, which could mean one of two things."

Scarlette had lifted her head a bit to look at the ghost that had somehow become a friend after she'd killed him. "What?"

"Well, it could mean that you're truly not a shifter. It doesn't look like the signature you had before, but then again, I never had anything like him to compare it to before. Your aura sort of glows next to his … it never seemed to react that way, unless you were calling the dead. Of course, I couldn't see these things before I died, so it may have done it before that, even. I have no way of knowing."

"What's the other possibility?" she asked, yawning. Angel's body heat was making her drowsy.

Morgan looked wary. "Well, it _is _very similar to his signature … so it could very well be that you will, in the event of the full moon, become a shifter like him and only then, when you have taken the form, will your aura show the shape."

"No," she frowned. She sat up them and Angel cuddled around her, an arm over her legs. She looked confused for a moment, and moved about, as if she were stretching. "My back doesn't hurt anymore."

"Should it?"

"You don't understand," she answered a little frantically. "There were gouges in my back … it looked like I'd been whipped by the cat, only instead of leather, it was bone hitting me. It should hurt. It's only been three days since the injury."

Angel picked that moment to wake up again. He sleepily blinked up at her and smiled as he stretched, showing his bare torso off to the best advantage. "Who are you talking to, my little pirate?" Scarlette blushed and looked away.

"I'm not your little anything," she answered, locking eyes with Morgan. He vanished with a nod and Angel sat up.

"What was that?" he asked, eyes skimming the room. "There was something there … I could feel it. Whatever it was, it was connected to you in some way." He looked at her. "What was it?"

"A ghost," she answered truthfully, not knowing how she could possibly lie about it. "I can call ghosts, or at least this particular ghost."

"Really?" he seemed genuinely interested. "I cannot call ghosts, but I can sense beings."

"Beings?" she asked, only half interested as he had drawn closer to her. She found him more distracting today for some reason and noticed just how beautiful he was. She looked away from his handsome features, hoping nothing showed on her face.

"Spirits, creatures that used to be material, I'm not sure," he answered. "You don't smell of blood today." He reached towards her and she flinched, automatically moving her hand to his wrist to block whatever was coming.

He smirked. "I was only going to check your wounds."

She looked wary but turned, speaking. "Do you blame me for being cautious? You did give me these wounds after all."

"No," he answered, unraveling the bandage. It peeled away in places, dried together with her blood. When the last of it was peeled away, Scarlette felt vulnerable with her back to him. He stroked a warm hand down her back and laughed when she jumped.

"Stay," he told her, touching the top of her head with his palm. He fetched the mirror and positioned it behind her. "Now, look." She craned her neck and gasped. There were _no scars_ … nothing left behind of the gouges he'd made with his lupine claws.

She was happy to have healed so fast, naturally, but was afraid of what that meant. "Angel … can you see auras as well as spirits?"

He smiled at her as he put the mirror away. "Why do you ask?"

She didn't look at him as she answered. "You have a wolf's shape about you … I do not. Edward has a large cat's shape around him … if I am a shifter, truly, then should I not have a shape of my own?" She did not actually see any of this, but remembered the impression of claws and a hissing whiskered face when Edward had snarled at her on the street. It was the closest thing she had.

He laughed. "You surprise me even yet. I did not think you would 'see' so early. You _will_ be one of us, I am sure of it. You have healed already, and you can sense the powers surrounding us. Ha! Any cubs we might have will be strong beyond belief!"

"Right," she sounded sarcastic. "About that … I'm married and have two of my own children … so … sorry to disappoint you, but even if I _am_ a wolf … I can't stay here."

Angel laughed. "When your two friends return, we will tell them you have perished, and there will be no need for you to leave."

Scarlette's blood rushed in a wave of fresh rage. "I don't think you understand me, Angel. I love my husband for all his faults … he wouldn't quite be _him _without them … and my children are not old enough to strike out on their own, as much as they'd hate to admit it. I _must_ leave here, no matter what happens four days from now."

Angel looked most determined. "Your new powers make you arrogant, little one. You will be a shifter, but weak still until you have learned control."

Scarlette made a gesture, much like Sora with his keyblade from the popular Kingdom Hearts game series, and _Aoi-rozuka_ was in her palm. "Angel, once again, you misunderstand me. I will not fight _your_ fights to escape. I will use every damn card I have in my deck and shove them up the dealer's ass. This sword was forged to slay immortal creatures. Do you think you and your shifter friends can stand its power?"

Angel grinned and Scarlette watched his upper and lower incisors elongate to sharpened points. He made a similar motion with his hand and suddenly the air in the tipi became exceptionally difficult to breathe.

_Tekagi-fukku_ shined a brilliant green in the dim light of the tipi. For Angel, the blade had taken the form of a claymore, just as _Aoi-rozuka_ had for Davy Jones. Scarlette could already taste defeat in the air. Her blade was reluctant to cross with the other and the feeling was oppressive.

"I thought you didn't use weapons," she spoke halfheartedly, hoping she could back down the road she had forged.

"You wielding the infernal water sword would be a cause to use mine," he answered. "And I will win here, not only because of my superior strength and ability to take more damage, but because there is not enough water nearby for you to utilize in addition to the swords normal gifts. However, there is an abundance of earth for me to use. And of course, the form my sword has taken will likely as not shatter your weapon."

Scarlette sighed, lowering her sword. "Fine. So I can't get out that way. Please, Angel … I must have that sword. It is not only to save myself, you see."

"Who else is in danger of Davy Jones?" he asked, not moving from his guarding stance.

Scarlette decided a bit of discretion should be used here. "A friend of mine and one other, Jack Sparrow." Usually the name had an interesting effect on people. Angel didn't even blink.

"I don't know that name," he answered, lowering the sword. He set it near the wall and the tension in the room bled back to normal levels. Scarlette set her sword aside as well.

"You've never heard of Captain Jack Sparrow?" she asked incredulously. "Captain of _The Black Pearl_?"

Angel shook his head. "Last I knew _the Pearl _was captained by a Hector Barbossa."

Scarlette finally looked triumphant. "Not for at least ten years," she grinned and pointed to the blue sword. "That is the blade what felled that bastard at last."

"Then why doesn't _the Pearl _belong to you?"

She had left out the crucial information, of course. She had not told him that Jack was her husband. "It is true, I killed Barbossa, but I didn't kill him while he was _the Pearl_'s captain. That was done by Jack Sparrow, over ten years ago. Barbossa came back again not long afterwards by trick of a vampire. He terrorized us for a while until we killed him again. Then, this necromancer brought him back, yet again, and I killed him with the sword of Davy Jones. That was … forty … two days ago."

Angel smiled and stepped towards her, hugging her before she could react. "Such a little badass, a she-pirate temptress."

Scarlette stepped away from him. "I am not by any stretch of the imagination a temptress."

"Oh?" Angel smirked. "You're plenty alluring, I'd say."

"Not on purpose, and you shouldn't be admiring me. I'm still married, and that isn't going to change."

He laughed. "Nor should you be admiring me, if you're so happily married."

Scarlette looked peeved. "I don't know what you mean."

Angel pointed at her, smiling as if he had already won. "I saw the way you blushed at me this morning … and when I cuddled up to you, you didn't move away."

She laughed aloud. "Okay, fair enough. You're gorgeous and I'm female. That's why I blushed. As for the cuddling, I didn't cuddle back, and the only reason I didn't try to move away initially is because I didn't want to upset the back wound, which turned out to be healed. All I knew at the time, was that it would probably hurt a lot to move, and it hadn't hurt yet, so I wasn't going to do any unnecessary movement."

Angel looked pleased however, probably because she had called him 'gorgeous'. She frowned. "Look, babe. Just because I think you're pretty, doesn't mean I want to be whatever you seem to want me to be."

"Pretty," he cocked his head to the side. "I always thought that was a feminine word."

"Yeah?" Scarlette laughed despite the situation. "I don't much listen to gender assignment. If I did, we wouldn't be here right now, because I would have accepted help across the creek, and I would have appeared just as weak as any other girl would. Come to think of it, if I had paid attention to all that gender crap when I was younger, I probably would have never met you. I wouldn't have stuck around here long enough." When she spoke, she thought of what had brought her to this time.

If she had been more feminine, odds are, she would not have been the one the prophecy had spoken of years ago. She and Jack would never have been as close and certainly wouldn't have gone as far to get stuck together for what might be a very long time.

"What are you thinking of?" Angel asked, curiously.

"Hmm?"

"You just had a wistful expression on your face," he added. "What was it that made you think of old times?"

"I was thinking of how different my life would have been if I _had_ been excessively feminine, or even remotely female in my actions. I have the body of a woman, but I've been told I rarely act like one." She laughed then. "Here's something funny. If I had been different, and still ended up in this situation, odds are I _would _be available. But then, if I were that way, you wouldn't want me, correct?"

He shrugged and looked confused. "I like you the way you are."

"You can't have me, Angel," she answered, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

"I would fight him for you," he added rather defiantly, or perhaps it was a threat.

"I understand," she looked a little worried. "And you would probably win, but that's not a fair fight if you have superhuman strength and speed. You will have cheated."

"If you are married to a pirate, what does it matter that I cheat?"

She stamped her feet, showing a bit of childishness in her frustration. "Dammit, Angel … you don't even know me. I think you're convinced that you want me but what you really want is someone who possesses my traits. There are many strong women that happen to be single. You could have chosen any of them."

He shook his head. "It had to be you."

"Why on earth would you pick me of all people?" Scarlette was truly confused. Her opinion of herself had not changed much in the years she'd been a pirate's wench.

He smiled. "I saw you. You not only were carrying one of the accursed blades, but you were dressed of the orient, two things I did on a normal basis. You refused help to cross the creek, also refusing to cross elsewhere, where it was thinner. You addressed the other shifters as if they were people to be respected. No human has _ever _done that while knowing what we were. You walked all those miles and were in better shape than the two men accompanying you were. You followed me into the darkness of the grand clearing without fear. How could I choose anyone else?"

Scarlette was fairly touched by the words but she couldn't see how she could get out of this situation. "I can't stay with you, Angel."

"If he were dead, you could."

"No," she answered firmly. "I have two children and a ship full of pirates to think of as well."

"You are a wolf," his voice began to drop in pitch as it rose in volume. "You cannot leave. I will not allow it!" His eyes bled to gold and claws shot from the ends of his fingers. The skin around his eyes had changed and looked dark. It almost looked as if he were wearing eyeliner. He made ready to lunge at her.

"Hey!" she shouted, not giving him a chance. She moved up close to him and got close to his face, even as his teeth and eyes changed. She put her hands on either side of his face and forced those mercurial eyes to meet hers. "You picked me for strength, right? Well, did you think this would be easy? Did you expect me just to agree to be your mate regardless of what the situation before in my life had been?"

"I asked your friend if you were his and he said that you didn't belong to either him or the other. He did not specify that there was any prior claim to you."

"You must have spoken to Will then, because I know Makeo would have made some comment that would have thrown you off that track of thinking, be it pretending to have some importance in that sense, or otherwise."

Angel sighed and Scarlette watched the pale iris bleed back to a brown so dark it almost looked black by comparison. She still had a hold of his face.

"I do have the power to keep you here," he growled.

"Is that so?" she whispered. "Tell me something. Would a lesser wolf feel the need to obey you?"

"Yes," he answered, although the word sort of slithered across her skin like something alive.

"Oh, really? That's interesting because I have absolutely no inclination to do what you say," she smiled. "I must not be a lesser wolf."

His claws bit into her arms and she felt the slow trickle of blood. She pressed her hands into his face. "That hurts. Stop doing it."

"I have just clawed your arms and all you can say is 'stop'."

"I can say a great deal more," she smirked. "There just doesn't seem to be much point in it. Why did you do it?"

"I want to make sure you will be as I am come the full moon."

"So you'll try to infect with every possible chance? You know, if I am forced into this, I am not going to be happy with the one doing the forcing."

"You sound almost nonchalant now."

She sighed. "There is no use getting hysterical about all of this." She let go of his face and sat down, looking at her arms. He dropped with her and licked her blood off his claws. She ignored him as she patted the shallow cuts. He hadn't done any more damage than a cat might have done, if the cat had been particularly violent.

"I suppose I asked for conflict," he sounded almost reasonable now. "I did pick a strong woman and without permission or warning."

"Yes," she froze, looking at him. Would he let her go?

He looked thoughtful, all of his teeth returned to normal. His claws still tickled at her legs, but it was not a hostile touch now. "If you are a wolf by the full moon … will you stay?"

"I cannot, Angel," she shook her head. "I have explained several times that I cannot stay here, and that I _must _leave with both swords." She put her head down and stared at her knees.

"Fine," he growled. "I will relent on a few conditions."

"Oh?" she looked up at him. There seemed to be an inner fire burning behind his eyes. He was a persistent creature.

"If he dies, you will come back to me, human or wolf. I will know when you return the sword if he is alive or not."

She sighed. "I will still have two children and a shipload of pirates to handle."

"The children can come as well. The pirates will be fine on their own."

She touched a hand to her head. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine. I promise in the event of my husband's death, I will return, if I am around to do so. Is that all, or did you want my soul as well?"

"No, not that," he grinned, finally getting somewhere. "But I do insist that you stay until the full moon. Your first moon will be out of control when you change."

"You said before that the first _few_ moons were out of control."

He shrugged, smiling. Scarlette frowned. "You bastard. You're hoping I'll kill him myself if I turn forms on the ship, aren't you?"

He rose and smiled. "Too late. You promised." He licked the last of her blood off his claws. "And now it's sealed in blood. There's no going back on it now." He left the tipi all aflutter. Scarlette scratched her head in confusion but gathered up the swords, both _Aoi-rozuka _and its earthy counterpart, _Tekagi-fukku_. The earth sword felt strange in her hand, not at all like the other. She watched in fascination as the claymore turned into a rapier type weapon. She was a little confused. It hadn't taken the same shape as the other weapon.

"Well, Jack," she whispered to the air. "You'd better not die on me."

…**.**

Day sixteen, the full moon. _The Pearl_'s crew saw the beached frigate and anchored nearby, ferrying the crew ashore using boats. Jack, Gibbs, Bootstrap, Cotton, Marty, and Leech were the first to set foot on land.

They were greeted by Will and Makeo. Will had raw spots on his hands where he had wrung them to pieces. _The Empress_ was not far behind Jack and the others and soon Sao Feng was standing in the mud of the bank, looking very out of place.

It was almost sunset, and Makeo and Will had just been about to set out when they noticed _the Pearl _and her Chinese escort coming in towards them. Jack could tell something was up merely by the expression on their faces.

"All right, what's going on?" Jack asked, looking back and forth between them. "Where is she?"

"Well, it's sort of complicated," Makeo attempted to begin. "There were these big guys who turned into ravenous creatures and would have eaten us if we hadn't walked all the way back, and it was very dark—"

"Makeo, I do not have the patience right now to deal with your rattling about. Tell me what happened."

Will looked downcast. "Scarlette is being held captive by the shifters."

Jack sighed. "That's not the best news I've been given lately." He turned to Sao Feng. "How 'bout it. Want to help bust me lass out?"

"Uh, Jack …" Makeo was nervously speaking again. "I highly recommend you do not go in person, and if you do … don't claim to … have any ties to Scarlette other than friendship …."

Will looked over in anger at Makeo. "What are you telling us now that you haven't told us all the while she was there?"

"Yes," Jack eyed the bandit. "What are you saying exactly?"

Makeo raised his arms. "I'm caught, I suppose. Unorna warned you about a wolf, remember? Well, this clan is characteristic for only wanting weaker women. The only exception to that is the wolf. The wolf as an animal generally wants a stronger mate …."

"It was that Angel person who initiated the whole thing," Will looked at the bandit. "I should have worded my response better."

"What response?"

"He asked me if she belonged to either us and rather than explain that she didn't 'belong' to anyone but was otherwise unavailable … I just told him no. I should have lied, perhaps."

"Odds are he may have decided to do away with you," Makeo sighed. "Anyways, Scarlette's feisty, which means she'll still be alive. Whether she'll be human or not, is the question. I suggest, as I suggested several times, nay, shouted to this nitwit that we postpone our little visit until tomorrow, so we don't run into a pack of wild and carnivorous animals in the middle of the night."

"I am not a nitwit," Will answered, mildly insulted.

"And why can't I go on this excursion?" Jack asked, ignoring Will. "Sounds like numbers are better."

Makeo shook his head. "We have no way of telling how much this wolf knows about you. Werewolves are extremely territorial. If he's got it in his mind that she should be his instead of yours, he will kill you to protect what is 'his'. Of course, this may not be the scenario we're walking into, but judging on how the setup was when we were forced to leave, I'd say it's likely. And with what Will just told us, I'd say almost certainly."

"Since you have all the answers, mate … what'll we be doin' then to get her back?" Jack was not amused and it was clear that he at least partially blamed Makeo for the happenings.

Makeo turned to Sao Feng. "Hi there. Remember me? Yeah, well, if you ever want to meet miss demon caller … you're going to have to lead your men into those woods about twenty miles northwest … and rescue her. Seeing as it is the full moon, you will either be looking for people … or something else."

Sao Feng nodded and barked back to his ship. Fifty of the eighty crewmembers were told to assemble on the wet mud of the banks and suddenly the air was full of swinging bodies and flipping pirates. _The Empress_ tilted with the odd weight change, but stayed upright, and soon, fifty men stood, ready to march into the woods and retrieve a woman.

They were not quite normal as pirates went. They each had a sort of bamboo armor on various parts of their bodies and took well to dual wielding. Their shoes varied, some being slight little Chinese flats, others curving at the toes, and some even in boots, though none of the designs were European by any standards. They were equipped not only with what looked like dual machetes, but bows and a quiver strapped to their person. A few of them had vests full of shuriken as well.

"Great!" Makeo smiled. "That outta teach those critters a lesson."

Jack smirked. "And you get to show them where they're going. You're going to fix this now because you didn't fix it before."

Makeo paled. "I couldn't fix it before."

"Well, now's your chance," Jack growled, itching to draw his weapons.

Sao Feng hefted a strange sword that hummed with energy. It was shaped like an ordinary _tai-chi_ sword, but the blade was thick and red with some inner light. Jack had a hard time looking at it. It was almost as if his eyes just slid away from it. _Kuroi-agohige_ was going to meet its siblings.

"Well, off you go then," Jack waved his hand. Sao Feng gave him a look of irritation but shouted a few short orders to his men and off they went. Makeo got swept along as well and soon, Jack was left alone with the few men he'd brought to shore, and Will. He turned to the younger Turner and frowned.

"And how did you get here?"

…**.**

Yeah. We're moving right along here. I somehow ended up with not one, but _two _trumpets at my house. Things are odd. One of my better friends called me the other day. You many remember Dante from the first story. He's going off to war again. Here's hopin' he comes back again.


	19. Chapter XVIII: Howling Wind, Howling Wol

Back again, off we go. I don't have much to say here.

**Chapter XVIII –Howling Wind, Howling Wolf—**

The sun had gone down on day fifteen with almost an audible sound and Scarlette looked up at the darkening sky with worry. She didn't want to be here, but she had to have the sword, no matter what the cost.

In the last few days, she and Angel had gotten along admirably, as long as he didn't try to be too affectionate with her. If they had met at some other time in her life, it might have almost been possible, but Ryoko was no more, and Scarlette was as loyal as they came. It was part of the reason she'd felt so bad about _the Pearl _leaving Port Royal before the prisoner situation had been cleared up.

She sat outside the tipi as the sun went down and sighed. She was perched on a fallen log, a vocal green frog about a foot away from her hand. She didn't hear him come up, but she knew when Angel stood behind her. She turned and looked at him, her eyes large.

He had no doubts about her. The small scratches she'd had on her arms days ago had healed within the hour they were made. There was no other answer to him. She was healing shifter quick, faster than most even for that group of people. She had asked about this and he replied accordingly.

"Healing is like any other power," he had said. "Some can heal quicker than others, usually the alpha, or dominant members." It had just proven his point even more in his view of things. She was healing faster, meaning she must be a shifter, and a powerful one at that.

Now, just after sunset, she looked at him standing behind her log, his eyes glowing with the last light of the sun. He held something in his hand.

Brushing the chirping frog aside, he swung one long leg over the log and straddled it, facing her. She turned slightly, bending her leg on top of the log. She played with a bit of velvet moss that had grown over the felled tree.

"This is yours," he held up what had been in his hand. It was a piece of dark brown leather, fashioned into a sort of bracelet. Metal had been pushed through to decorate the surface in stud like impressions.

She took it and looked at it. "You made this?"

He nodded and smiled, taking it back and buckling it around her left wrist. "I have one as well. They are enchanted."

"How are they enchanted?"

He smiled. "A friend of mine put a charm on them. I will know if you are dead. I will also know when your heart is free, so you must keep your promise, or I will come looking for you."

"Will this tell me when you are dead as well?" she asked, raising her left hand and looking at the leather. It was a little too big but then again, what wasn't on her? Her wrists were small even compared to other women.

"Yes," he nodded. "I don't know how it will work, but it will let you know." He smiled at her again. "Although, I expect to out-live any human, man or woman."

She shrugged. "My humanity is not a flaw, nor is your other form."

"Do you truly believe that?" he asked, leaning towards her. "Do you honestly not think less of me for being half animal?"

She laughed and looked at him with narrowed eyes, though she smiled. "Why should I think less of you for something you can't change?"

"You truly believe your words," he shook his head and smiled at the ground. "Really, there couldn't be anyone like you." He kicked out at a plant near the base of the log. "If things were different, you might have loved me for who I was. You wouldn't have cared that I was a monster."

"You're not a monster, Angel," she sighed. "It's what is inside one's heart that makes them monstrous, not what they change into. The wolf itself has cold emotions that humans do not understand and so they automatically think it is monstrous." She shook her head. "Nature is cold. Kill or be killed. Humans lost those basic instincts because they were born with a high capacity for intelligence. In reality, your body is much more efficient than mine."

"Perhaps not," he pointed to the dark sky. "The moon is rising and soon the change will come." He fixed an odd expression on his face and looked her in the eye. "The woods are full of men tonight. They are orient in nation and dress and carry weapons. What do you know of them?"

Scarlette was genuinely surprised. "Asian men are in the woods? Are they all Asian, or only a few of them? The others might have arrived and decided they'd rather not wait until tomorrow to see if I'm all right."

"No," Angel shook his head. "They entered the woods three hours ago and moved much more quickly than any of your friends. They're using not only the ground but the trees as well and have covered a lot of ground in a short amount of time."

Scarlette frowned. "I don't know. I don't know who they are. They aren't part of my crew."

"Your words taste true," he answered. "But something tells me they come for you."

"They could be coming for you as well," she answered. "Perhaps they were hired to eradicate the shifters."

"Odds are, no," he stood. "The colonists don't get along well with other nations. They hardly get along with England as it is."

"I know," Scarlette said smiling. She looked up at the sky and saw the disk of the moon. It was full. There were sounds from the forest, animal noises.

Angel turned to her and held out his hand. "Come. We must go to the grand clearing before your body changes. It will be safer that way."

She stood and took his hand and with a gasp, they were off running. The trees flew by so quickly, Scarlette didn't have time to take in their presence. She finally gave up trying to see ahead of her and just followed Angel's body.

It didn't take long to burst into the clearing. The other shifters stood about, some in human form, others having lost themselves to the moon already. Scarlette had been told that the women generally could not keep their human forms long after sunset. The moon compelled them too strongly.

Edward smiled and clapped. "Greetings, Angel. You are back from your recluse, and with the woman, I see. Does this mean we have two wolves now?"

"Most likely," Angel answered, bringing Scarlette to the fore. He let go of her hand and she stood there, nervous. "Though there are some loose ends she must tie up before belonging to us. She will take the sword with her and she will return."

Edward looked at Scarlette and moved in closer, meeting her eyes. His had bled to a green color that almost seemed to give off light in the darkness. "Is this true? Will you return to give us back the sword, and join us once again?"

"Angel and I have an agreement of sorts and I will return when the terms of that agreement have come to pass." She couldn't put it more vaguely than that if she tried.

"Good enough for me," Edward answered. "We hardly use the sword. Angel called it the other day, and that's the first time in ten years we've even seen it."

A woman behind Edward with blood red hair hissed at Scarlette and dropped to all fours. She writhed a bit and changed with a tearing sound. Spotted fur flowed from her skin and in a few seconds, a jaguar stood, growling and watching Scarlette.

Edward looked down at her. "They're losing their forms, one by one. Soon we will all follow." He looked at Scarlette. "You have not yet become a wolf. Either you are very strong … or you will not be one of us."

"My bargain still holds," she answered. "Whether I change or not, I will return the sword. The other part of the agreement holds as well."

"What exactly is the other agreement?" Edward asked cautiously.

Scarlette locked eyes with the jaguar at his feet as the animal licked its lips, looking her up and down.

"She has other obligations that must be met," Angel answered, stepping up behind her and placing his hand at the back of her neck. "She will return when she must."

"The woods are crawling with men," a voice piped up. It was the last woman who had not lost her form yet. "We should find out what they want while some of us can still communicate with them." She looked at Scarlette and gave a shiver.

"Just let it happen," Edward told her and she growled at him.

"I don't want to," she answered. "I've only just managed to be the last one to fall and she stands there, totally unaffected."

Scarlette was slightly confused but Angel explained. "Her form is the bear and she's fighting the change. She thinks she should be strong enough to be included in certain things."

"She does not need to know my history," the woman exclaimed, falling to her knees. She shouted in anger and the bear took her, ripping out of her body in a wash. The large creature shook itself off and growled.

"She'll know a great deal more than that if she becomes a part of us," Edward laughed.

"They're closing in on us," Angel spoke, looking around. He drew Scarlette in closer, pressing against her back. "Ready yourselves."

Scarlette pulled out the sword at her hip and braced herself, stepping away from Angel. She could hear them now, the men in the woods. There was a faint but present movement through the bushes that had not been there before. It was constant as well, which meant there was probably a great many of them.

"Fifty men, approximately," one of the shifters spoke out. Everyone had turned out to the trees and was waiting eagerly for the coming potentially hostile opponents.

"We've only got about twenty," another spoke.

"We'll be fine," Edward called out.

"They entered the woods only three hours ago," another spoke. "They have moved incredibly fast and they have been heading straight for us since then. They may just be enough to do us in."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Angel growled, tightening his grip on the hilt of _Tekagi-fukku_.

Scarlette looked up at him and watched his perfect profile, so full of determination. She smiled to herself and shook her head. She was glad to know Angel, even under the strange circumstances. If things had been different, they might have even been friends or more.

He looked down at her and she didn't look away. "You're fighting?"

She shrugged. "If they're here to kill you guys, then why shouldn't I? They'll kill me too. I do hope to find out what they want before the carnage begins, however."

"Oh, that'll come first, I'm sure," he grinned. "Funny that I've been teaching you to fight as we do, and the first time I am called upon to protect you, I don your methods." He laughed and looked out to the trees. "I hope you don't think me weak."

"Never," she smiled. He turned to her and drew closer, touching her hair with his left hand.

"Ryoko …."

"Hmm?" She gave him wide eyes in the hopes that he wouldn't say too much in front of the others.

He closed his mouth and just looked at her. "Nothing." He kissed her, his hand at the back of her head, and broke away, letting her go before she could struggle.

She backed away and frowned at him, gripping her sword. "What was that about?"

He laughed. "I just wanted to do that once, before I lost the chance potentially forever."

She smirked, unable to stay angry as he laughed. "Cute. Just don't pull that again or you'll regret it."

"Oh, I honestly doubt I'll regret it," he laughed again, brandishing his weapon in the moonlight. He howled up at the moon.

"I can see them," Edward called out. "Hey! You in the woods! Come into the light and talk to us."

"Here goes," Angel grinned, his mouth full of sharper teeth.

"Yep," Scarlette agreed, ready for anything.

…**.**

Makeo had been leading Sao Feng and his men through the woods for about twenty minutes when Sao Feng took over.

"I can sense them and you are going much too slowly. Keep up if you must, but we will swiftly leave you behind if you continue at that pace."

"Whatever you say, man," Makeo had said. "But just so you know, they're at least twenty miles away. I'd rather keep some energy in reserve if we have to fight them, rather than arrive tired."

"We will be fine," Sao Feng answered, and he ordered his men forward. He joined them in their quick pace. Makeo, after a quick sigh, jogged after them.

Three hours later, they were all spread out around the clearing where Makeo, Will, and Scarlette had all met the shifters. The wall canvas had been taken down and torchlight showed through the trees. The shifter called Edward had called out to them.

"Hey! You in the woods! Come into the light and talk to us."

Makeo looked at Sao Feng and they both nodded, walking into the light. The rest of the men inched forward until they were on the edge of the light, visible, but still halfway in the darkness, hiding their true numbers.

"Makeo?" Scarlette exclaimed.

"Oh, good," he sighed. "You're still alive. I'm very glad, too, 'cause Jack would have killed me if you had died."

She sheathed her sword and straightened up. "Who is that with you?"

Sao Feng had looked her over upon entering the clearing, she being the only woman besides those who had shifted. He stepped forward and bowed his head. She did so as well and spoke in Mandarin to him. He was so surprised he couldn't speak for a moment. She switched into Cantonese, thinking perhaps she'd caught the wrong dialect but he answered her in Mandarin.

"_You are the Lady Sparrow?_" he asked her. She nodded and replied.

"_I don't know about the title 'lady' but I am Scarlette Sparrow,_" she looked him over. "_Who might you be, sir?_"

"_Captain Sao Feng, pirate lord of the South China Sea and Singapore._"

Her eyes widened and she would have spoken further, but Edward interrupted.

"Who are you that enters our territory without permission and speaks languages we don't understand?" the jaguar growled as well, making the words seem more powerful.

Sao Feng repeated his introduction in English. "We have come for the lady Sparrow."

"That would be you, I assume," Edward pointed at Scarlette. She nodded.

"I am Scarlette Sparrow."

"Really," Edward looked genuinely interested. He looked over at Angel. "The wife of Jack Sparrow. I can only imagine what those loose ends must include." Angel had not heard of Jack, but apparently, Edward had.

"I have something for you, if we are to leave in peace," Sao Feng spoke in English. Scarlette looked up at Edward and back at Angel.

"Is there going to be conflict here, boys?"

"Not from me," Edward shrugged. "Although why the pirate lord would bring fifty men if he didn't mean violent business makes me wonder."

"They were in case you weren't going to let her go," Makeo answered.

"She still has to stay until at least dawn," Angel insisted. "We do not know if she will shift form or not yet. It would be dangerous to allow her to go with you."

"So you did infect her," Makeo snapped. "Just couldn't help it, could you?"

"Hey!" Scarlette pointed at Makeo. "Knock it off. It's been discussed, all right. And what do you care? You knew there might be a problem and you didn't really warn me. The whole situation might have been avoided if you and your mother hadn't kept your usual secrets."

Makeo shrugged. "Yeah, well if you weren't so damn stubborn … Will told us some interesting things earlier and this whole business started when you jumped over that stupid creek. If you had let me help you instead of being such a blasted die-hard, Mr. Fuzzy behind you wouldn't have noticed that you were too good to pass up."

"Is that what you think as well, Makeo?" she growled, sounding not so much like herself. "Am I too good to pass up?"

He shrugged. "I like my women to need me. You don't need anyone."

"Exactly," she smirked. "My problems with Angel have been cleared up, but I don't fault him for wanting me exactly as I am. There haven't been many that have." She turned to Sao Feng. "I must stay until dawn, but when the sun rises, I will return with you." She turned to Edward. "How many of them are you willing to allow to remain while you shift? I do not want to make the journey on my own tomorrow."

Edward shook his head. "Angel will escort you back tomorrow. They must go back to wherever they came from. We will hunt, and the woods will be too dangerous for humans. They must leave, but you have our word that you will return tomorrow."

She turned to Sao Feng and nodded. "I believe them. I'm sorry you came all this way for me, a supposed enemy to you."

"You are not my enemy," he answered. "Your husband is my enemy."

She smirked. "I would defend him if we were to fight. Does that not make us enemies?"

He smiled at her. "I have business with you, Ryoko."

"You call me Ryoko," Scarlette frowned. "Why?"

"I have heard tales that you live the name, that you can raise the dead as if they were alive. I had to know if this was true."

"Yes," she nodded. "I can raise the dead, but I cannot resurrect anyone. I can to some extent control those dead spirits already roaming the earth."

"Yes," he nodded. "I have met your ghost friend."

"You have five minutes to leave, or we chase you out," Edward warned, looking up at the moon.

"I will see everyone tomorrow," she told Makeo. "But you must go now. Negotiations, conversations, and whatever else can be dealt with later." She turned to walk back to the center but Sao Feng touched her shoulder.

"This is for you, Ryoko," he spoke gently, taking a long straight sword from his back and holding the straps out to her. She took it hesitantly and pulled it out of the sheath about an inch. The blade glowed red in the darkness.

"_Kuroi-agohige_," she smiled. She met the Asian captain's eyes and nodded. "Thank you. Now you must go."

He nodded and turned, walking fearlessly back into the darkness. He and his men all but vanished. Makeo laughed nervously and jogged out after them, calling for them to wait up for him.

Scarlette slung the fire sword over her shoulder and the energy at her back doubled. It was as if the swords were conversing, reacquainting themselves.

Angel motioned her towards him and as she walked to him with some difficulty, he called out to the others. "I'm going to take her back and stow these weapons. If she changes there, I can handle it. Don't wait for us."

The swords communicating was making it hard enough for her to concentrate that she actually took his hand and allowed him to lead her through the darkness.

She was seeing spots by the time they made it to the tipi. He pulled off the swords and she fell to her knees and shivered just outside the flap. She crawled to the log and sat, hugging herself.

"Are you fighting it?" Angel asked, sitting beside her.

"I don't know, but something strange is happening. The swords started it, but it isn't going away now." She looked up at him. "What's happening?"

He motioned to her outer clothing. "You should take off as much as you're comfortable with. If you are about to shift, you'll ruin those beautiful clothes."

She slipped off the coat and the Chinese shirt, kicking off her boots as well. She stood there in stockings, pants and her tank top, shaking.

Falling to her knees and throwing her arms wide, she screamed to the sky, a long anguished sound. Angel was there as she punched her hands to the dirt.

"Don't fight it, Ryoko!" he shouted. "It will hurt if you struggle with the change. You'll tear yourself up!"

"No!" she cried, holding her arms in front of her. They changed before her eyes, but it was not wolfish fur that flowed from her elbows down. Red scales marched down her arms and her fingers webbed together, the nails elongating. Bones shot out of her arms, giving her the bladed appearance the Lyandize had. Joste's magic still floated in her system.

"What is this?" Angel touched her arm as she shook, and the scales soaked back into her skin. The bones sucked back in with a painful sound and Scarlette growled, her voice not very human anymore.

With the touch of Angel, fur did flow, but only where the scales had. Her nails had stayed long, but now they grew longer and sharper. The fur was black and her fingers curved painfully. She looked like she was wearing furry gloves.

"Just let it go," he whispered. "Let go and it will all be easier."

"I can't!" she shouted, pounding her fists on the ground. "I can't _not_ fight it!" She bent over and clawed the ground, making two long furrows in the dirt. Angel bent over her, holding her still.

She could feel something in the ground nearby, something that would take this power she could feel, both the wolf and the Lyandize magic inside her would follow her own power, if she could send it outward. She pointed with her hands, now closer to paws, and the power shot outward, hitting its mark.

Not too far away, there had been a few crude burials, and the dead came out of the ground now at the touch of her power. They shambled forward, looking more and more alive as her power roared through them.

The dark fur on her arms vanished and the claws returned to their normal length, her hands emerging from the change whole and human.

She lost consciousness then, as the power grew to surround her. The contact Angel had kept with her throughout this transition did him in then. Her power ripped through him as well and he slipped his skin and became a full wolf beside her, his pale fur shining in the moonlight like snow. He shook himself and nuzzled her face, licking along her neck in a worried sort of way.

The zombies appeared in the clearing then, walking forward. There was about eight of them, and they looked so alive, one might mistake them for people. Angel could smell that they were very dead, however. They all sat on the ground before the unconscious necromancer, about fifteen feet away. The wolf stood before her and growled until he felt a limp hand on his foot. He looked back at the girl behind him.

"Go and hunt, Angel," she spoke wearily. "They will not hurt me. I will be here."

He nuzzled her face again as she lay limp on the ground and she laughed.

"Don't worry … They will protect me until you return. I promise."

He growled at her and sat down, peering into her face. She looked up at him and smiled.

"I'm not going to change, Angel," she answered as if she could understand him. "I believe I _can_ … but I can also control it, change it to something else. I am not controlled by the moon."

He growled again and she laughed, putting her head back down.

"If it rises again, I will hold it off until you return," she spoke sleepily. "Now, hurry … hunt so you will have strength."

She knew when the pale wolf ran into the woods. The absence of such a presence was obvious. She slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

The zombies watched on without emotion as the night dragged on.

…**.**

Sao Feng and his men arrived some time before dawn and Jack was there to meet them. He was disturbed to find that neither Scarlette nor any of the swords had returned with the men.

Makeo trudged up some time later and was immediately interrogated by Jack and Will.

"Well, where is she?" Jack asked, most perturbed. He had not bothered to talk to Sao Feng.

"She'll be back in the morning," Makeo groaned. "Let me sleep first, please."

"You're not getting any sleep until I know what's going on," Jack growled.

"You want to know?" Makeo asked dangerously. "Fine. I'll tell you. That … _wolf_ person wanted your little wifey for his own and he took the first step into making her so. He infected her with lycanthropy, or tried at least. She was still human when we left, but they wouldn't let us take her because it was possible that she might change and not be able to control herself. They were actually worried that she might eat one of us."

"They were probably more worried that the fifty men with you would kill her if she went berserk," Will commented. "I doubt they had any worry for your safety."

"Yeah, well, she didn't seem too reluctant to be there, either. She actually defended the wolf when I made a comment about him not being able to resist her." He shook his head. "She said she'd be back tomorrow, but it didn't seem like a hostile situation, at least not for her. They were treating her like one of their own."

"If she said she was coming back," Jack began. "Then she'll be here."

Makeo looked at him from the side of his eye. "And if your precious Scarlette tells you she changes into a monster at the time of the full moon … what then, Jack Sparrow?"

Jack did not answer immediately, but met the other man's eyes. "Scarlette is not a monster, no matter what she changes into or what she does." Jack smirked. "Her heart is purer than mine has been for a long time, mate. For instance, if you were in some dangerous situation … I would leave you there and not look back. She would probably try to save you, all because of a little thing called friendship."

Makeo frowned. "So you're not at all worried that she'll stay with that wolf and forget about you altogether?"

"No, I'm not," Jack answered, turning towards the woods. "Well, I am a little worried, but not that she'll stay and forget about me. I'm more worried that he'll keep her there because he's afraid he'll never find someone like her again." Jack laughed then. "He won't, you know. There's no one quite like Scarlette."

All three watched the woods, hearing a wolf howl in the distance. Dawn was approaching; hours off yet, but inevitably charging forward.

…**.**

Scarlette awoke some time later, due to someone's dog licking her face. She rolled over and turned to tell the mutt to go home, but froze when she saw the white fur, the dark claws, those pale eyes rimmed in black. This was no dog.

She sat up quickly and looked at the sky. The night was still dark, but the moon had long gone away. The zombies still stared at her, waiting for orders.

"Go back to sleep, you silly things," she told them. The zombies rose up and disappeared back into the woods. The wolf watched them leave and turned its long muzzle to stare at her again.

"Did you hunt?" she asked him, pulling her knees up to her body. The wolf yawned loudly and licked its lips. She laughed and stretched her arms above her head. She stood up and continued to stretch, turning all about the clearing. She heard laughter behind her and turned. The tipi flap had moved slightly as she turned and the wolf was gone. A few moments later, Angel emerged, fully clothed, pulling tangles out of his hair.

"You're looking much better," he observed, shaking his head wildly. "Although, if this was to be the only time we were together as wolves, you could have at least changed and run with me."

"I didn't know I wouldn't have to change when I fought it," she answered, sitting on the log. "I figured I'd fight it and eventually lose. I had no idea all that other stuff would happen. Didn't you see it? I started changing into a Lyandize, first. That was strange."

"Lyandize? What manner of creature is that?"

"A mermaid," she answered. "Not too long ago, I had a run in with the leader of a clan of merfolk. I was being crafty about my negotiations and he got angry and tried to change me into one of his people … I fought back with the only power I had, the necromancy, but his power left a stain on me. Apparently, when your power entered my system, it left a stain as well, but was not able to turn me fully. I don't know why."

"My power clashed with his," Angel answered. "It was still in your system, trying to change you, when mine attempted the same thing. They fought … do these mer-people heal particularly quickly?"

"They're immortal, so yeah, I suppose," she answered. "Why?"

He smirked. "Remember your hyper healing we couldn't explain? Both powers were working on you at the same time and it sped up your healing. You could probably change into either one if you wanted." He sounded sad as he said the last, sitting beside her.

"I'm sorry," she spoke, looking at her hands. "If I had known I would have been able to control it like that, I would have let it happen."

"Oh, well," he shrugged, standing. "Dawn is coming closer. We should set off now, if you want to get back by the time the sun rises."

"Aren't you tired?" she asked, standing and watching his broad shoulders as he looked off into the woods. "You were up all day and you will have been up all night, including a change into wolf form. You should be exhausted."

"I_ am _exhausted," he answered without turning around. "But the sooner we leave, the sooner I can come back and sleep."

"How many hours until dawn?" she asked, walking towards him.

He looked at the sky. "About five."

"Then why don't you sleep now," she suggested, standing behind him. "I'm still tired as well, fighting off those changes. If we sleep now and wake with the sun, we can get back tomorrow. Everything will be fine, as long as I get back by light of day."

He turned and faced her, looking down at her small form. "You actually care if I'm tired or not, don't you?"

"Why should that surprise you?" she asked. "I care about my own well being too, don't get me wrong. However, I just had a nap of sorts. You have been running about for hours and now you want to hike over twenty miles. I can't carry you back."

He smiled. "No one carries me."

"Nor me," she answered. She gathered all the things she had stripped off to prepare for the change that never happened and stood at the tipi flap. She looked back at him and laughed, lifting the flap and entering. She placed everything in a pile and saw the three swords lying together. She had succeeded in gathering the cursed blades. Now all that was left was to defeat Davy Jones.

She stretched out on the bed and was nearly asleep when Angel finally entered the tipi. She was drifting off rapidly, listening to the rustle of clothing and movement behind her. When Angel slid into bed behind her and wrapped his arms about her, she was too far gone to care. Plus, a distant part of her mind was kind enough to give him that much. It didn't hurt her at all, and it was the least she could do to comfort him for tomorrow might be the last he ever saw of the person who might have been his perfect mate.

…**.**

Scarlette and Angel began the long walk soon after dawn. Scarlette had insisted on carrying all three cursed swords.

She had them slung over the same shoulder so they all lay parallel to each other on her back, _Tekagi-fukku, Aoi-rozuka,_ and _Kuroi-agohige._

Angel had tried to carry the two she was not using, but she had stubbornly strapped them on. Angel had not asked why she felt inclined to carry all three but she had explained it without prompt.

"I'm the one who made a deal with that dreaded captain," she spoke. "I will carry the curse of that choice until those who share it take their part."

They walked for a while at a steady pace. The terrain looked much friendlier by daylight. In a few hours, they were once again at the creek. Scarlette looked at Angel from the corner of her eye. He leapt across without hesitation and turned to look back at her. She smiled and stepped back a few feet to give herself a running start.

She smirked and bolted towards the bank, leaping off and stretching out for the far shore. She just made it, and wind milled her arms to keep from falling backwards into the water.

Time seemed to slow as she realized she was falling. She looked up and took a deep breath, hoping she could swim as well here as she could in the ocean.

At the last second, Angel's hand hooked in the straps around her chest and pulled her against him, to the safety of land. Time resumed its normal flow. She looked up at him and noticed just how close they were. Their noses touched and on Angel's part, it wasn't accidental.

"Thanks," she whispered, not daring to move.

He smiled, laughing at having caught her again. He released her without any more comment. His laughter had been enough. Scarlette shivered and followed her guide back through the woods.

Before long, they came to the edge of the woods, and Scarlette could see the masts of all three ships through the gaps in the trees.

"Well, there they are," he motioned with his head. "I figured I'd say my goodbyes now before any of your pirates see me. Odds are they probably don't like me very much."

"They wouldn't understand the situation," Scarlette answered. "I must go now."

Angel growled and turned abruptly, punching through a tree nearby, shattering the trunk. The tree gave a groan and the branches fell, a person jumping to the ground from the boughs. It was Sao Feng.

"I hope you're not thinking of keeping her any longer than you already have, young man," Sao Feng turned and gave him a pointed look.

Angel snarled and the sound was definitely not friendly. Sao Feng looked calm but his hands were on his hips, near his weapons. Scarlette groaned and both men looked at her.

"Look, guys. There doesn't need to be any more conflict," she shrugged. "I'm here and we can leave. It's that simple. Why are you all up in arms about this anyways?" her question was directed at Sao Feng. The captain spared her a glance but did not move out of his stance.

"I have business with you, Lady Sparrow," he answered. "I wish your safe return so our business may be conducted." He turned his eyes to the werewolf bristling near the ruined tree. "When you did not return immediately, I suspected foul play, and stationed myself here to wait for you."

"There was nothing of the kind," Scarlette waved it off. "Now can you two knock it off, or am I going to have to intervene?"

The men did not answer but glared at each other, the tension rising. They suddenly lunged forward, Sao Feng pulling out his sword, Angel brandishing claws. They passed each other and clashed, turning abruptly to face one another again.

"All right, fight then, dammit," she growled. "But I am personally going to shoot the winner."

They both sort of hunched and Sao Feng spoke. "The fight is over."

Scarlette touched her pistol. "Well, who won?"

"No one won," Angel answered, holding his chest. His shirt was wet. Sao Feng held a hand against his chest as well. They had both struck their mark.

Scarlette sighed. "Well, are you both all right?"

"We'll live," Angel answered. "I will, anyways. What about you, old man?"

Sao Feng smirked. "Your youth makes you arrogant. Take care that it doesn't lead you to your end. I too will live."

"Good," Scarlette interrupted again. "So, have we finished here? Or are there other issues we need to work out."

The men did not reply and Scarlette grinned. "Great. So, I'm going to walk that way now. Try not to kill each other." She turned and started walking towards the ships.

Angel called out. "Ryoko."

She turned just enough and looked over her shoulder. "Angel?"

He looked grim. "You will come back, won't you?"

She didn't smile. "I will honor the terms of our agreement, yes. Until then, goodbye."

"Perhaps then, I can tell you my real name," he smiled then.

She smiled slightly and nodded. "If you want. Goodbye, Angel." As an afterthought, she added. "Don't wait for me, Angel. There really are other women out there, even some that are as tough as I am."

He met her eyes and shook his head once. "I'll wait as long as I need to."

She shrugged. "If you wish, then. It really is goodbye, now. I'm going back to my family, and you, to yours."

He nodded, looked at the ground, and turned around, walking into the woods. He began running at an incredible pace and was gone in seconds. Scarlette turned to Sao Feng.

"Well, let's go," she motioned towards the shore. "And on the way, you can tell me what business you have with me."

"_Hai_, I will," Sao Feng answered. "But before we leave the comfort of the woods, I must ask you if you captained a ship with a serpent, a wyrm figurehead. There were rumors that you had such a ship."

Scarlette's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I managed to … acquire a ship matching that description. It had Asian cut sails and the ship was held together not with the standard nuts and bolts of the Europeans, but sewn with an odd twine."

"Coconut rope," he answered.

"If you say so," she answered. "Why do you ask about this ship?"

He smiled. "I once captained a ship such as that, but it went down near a chain of volcanic islands."

Scarlette looked intrigued. "This chain of islands would be a little over two weeks sailing from Tortuga, I imagine.

He nodded shortly and smiled his colored teeth at her.

"And what were _you_ doing in the vicinity of those islands?"

"Searching for dragons," he answered.

She laughed. "Well, you were in the right place, all right."

"And the ship?"

She eyed him. "I seem to be missing the crucial connecting piece of the story. The _Langue de Serpent_ was a spell put on a necromantic demi-god by five men and the Lyandize, the men to protect their treasure, the Lyandize to better control the area. Where does your ship come into that picture?"

Sao Feng laughed. "Where indeed. In truth, my ship only came into this particular legend perhaps ten years ago when I was down in that region, as I said, searching for dragons. The Lyandize there refused to believe I wanted nothing of the wish the god would grant. They wrecked my ship on a volcanic reef covered atoll and drowned all but five of my men."

"How did you escape such punishment?" Scarlette wondered aloud.

Sao Feng smirked. "I am sure the answer to that is obvious, but I can see you may need some time. When you have the riddle's end, come find me and we will speak of greater things."

Scarlette looked skeptical. "So, if it just happens to come to me, you want me to sail to the South China Sea? That's a six month voyage, quite a long way for just a chat."

Sao Feng smirked. "Quite. You must remember that _Kuroi-agohige_ belongs to me, however."

Scarlette sighed. "Yeah, yeah."

Sao Feng turned to go but thought better of it. "Jones raised my ship for you, yes?"

"That is indeed why we're here," Scarlette groaned. "If I hadn't had my encounter with Mr. Tentacle-Face, Jack and Bootstrap would not know when our time was up, exactly. They probably would have crossed their fingers and hoped Jones had forgotten."

"You said … 'our' time …" Sao Feng met her eyes. "Forgive me, but that seems to be the first cowardly act I've heard from you. You bargained to be taken with your husband, did you not?"

Scarlette eyed him with disdain. "You should practice being less perceptive out loud."

"You have not told them."

"No."

Sao Feng shook his head. "Why?"

She smirked. "Jack would probably flip out, and I don't like to see him so out of character. He has never shown true fear until this Jones business came up. I'd hate to see how terrified he'd be if he knew."

"Fear for you," Sao Feng nodded. "Jack does not often fear for the safety of others. Count yourself lucky that he values you so."

Scarlette looked a little guilty. "Let's get out of here before Angel decides he'd rather battle." It was an excuse, but she was done with the analyzing via Sao Feng.

…**.**

Business was simple. Sao Feng wanted her to raise his wife so questions could be answered. The dead woman was in the hold of _The Empress_ and could be animated once Scarlette arrived.

"I will agree on my terms," she spoke. "You free Jack of any obligation he has to you, and I will do this."

Sao Feng shook his head. They were nearing the ships and he stopped walking, the pale wheat of the field coming up to his waist. Scarlette stopped as well.

"I am allowing you to use the sword of flame, remember. Jack has already agreed to pay me after this battle for his life, but for lending the sword to your use, I must have this thing done. Please."

Scarlette looked into his eyes, and remembered then that he had recently lost his wife, and he was asking her to bring her back, if even for a short time. How could she refuse such an offer, and to someone who had just helped her a great deal. No matter how long she had been a pirate and learned Jack's negotiating skills, she still had a heart full of sympathies.

"All right," she answered. "I will do this, but know that I must lay her back to rest once your questions have been asked. Every zombie up and awake drains my power. I cannot resurrect your wife, for I have no control over her soul."

He nodded. "I understand, and thank you for your cooperation. Your husband would have refused or haggled a bit more."

"Yeah," Scarlette had noticed a familiar face coming closer. Jack had spotted them and was walking through the high grass towards them. Scarlette left Sao Feng and strode towards Jack. She did not run, but it was only by a large amount of self discipline that she kept her stride.

They stopped maybe a foot away from each other, both unsure of the current events. No questions were asked, no gestures were made. They only stared.

"Fourteen days left," Jack whispered, his voice being nearly swallowed by the wind whistling through the field.

"I know," she spoke just as quietly. "I have the swords."

He hugged her then, holding her tight against him, her face buried in his neck.

"They're just weapons," he whispered. "If I had lost you because of my debt with Jones, I would not have forgiven myself … or that idiot, Makeo."

Scarlette pulled away enough to look up at Jack. "What has he done, now?"

Jack sighed. "He knew all about the wolf's wants. This could have all been avoided if you would have known to take on a less than dominant personality. You're a wonderful actress, after all."

"Yes," she answered, a little pleased that he thought so. "But would they have been inclined to lend me the sword if I hadn't been a dominant personality? After Angel— the wolf sort of … adopted me … they treated me as an insider and had no problem with me using the blade. Before, when I spoke as a mere human, they had no intention of allowing me to use it."

"Mere human …" Jack looked at her with a slightly suspicious expression. "Are you human, luv?"

She frowned. "Would you still hold me as you do now if I were not?"

"Is this going to influence your answer?"

"Nope."

He took a breath and petted her hair absently. "It would take some getting used to if you turned into a ravenous beast once a month, but you would be that much harder to hurt. Escaping would hardly ever be a problem for you … not much could kill you." He smiled. "There are definite pluses."

She smirked. "Come. Let us walk back. I will tell you what happened." She looked back at Sao Feng, who observed them with narrow eyes. "Captain, I will attend your problem once I have seen to the placing of these swords."

Sao Feng nodded and headed toward his ship with ease, not hindered by the long grass.

Jack put an arm around her shoulders and they began the walk back. "So, what happened? Are you a wolf now?"

"Not exactly," she answered, and went into the complicated tale. "Joste, the large Lyandize with the red hair that brought me away from the cave at one point had a disagreement with me. He attempted to change me into a Lyandize against my will. He is the High Chieftain of their clan and such things were not above him, apparently. I defended myself in the only way I knew to do in such a situation, forcing my necromancy … sort of _at_ him."

"What happened?"

"Well, his arms turned all dark and dead looking and he stopped trying to convert me. However, like when I encountered _The Necromancer_'s figurehead, there was a magical stain left behind. When the werewolf magic entered my system, it tangled with the Lyandize left behind, causing hyper healing to occur. Both flavors of form were trying to convert me at the same time."

Jack snickered. "It's more complicated than I imagined."

"Well, I was fairly certain I was going to end up as a wolf. There were a lot of things pointing in that direction … but denial is a wonderful thing."

"If you say so," Jack answered, still grinning. "Finish your story."

"When the moon rose, my body starting reacting strangely when I touched both the blue and red sword at the same time. There was an odd tingling almost pain feeling ripping through my body and I fought it. My arms, from the hands to the elbows changed into Lyandize arms until Angel touched the scales. The scales disappeared and fur came instead. I had a wild idea that I could send the energy elsewhere and I tried, letting the necromancy out into the ground. Both the wolf and Lyandize energy followed it out and I sort of passed out due to magical exhaustion. I didn't change, though."

"But you almost did," Jack pointed out. "What does that mean?"

She sighed. "It means I can probably change if I want to … next full moon, I will need to repeat the process most likely. Hopefully not. Part of the wolf energy went into Angel … I hope I don't need him to duplicate my narrow escape."

"You'd better not," Jack growled. They had reached the ships. The frigate had sunk so low in the mud, they opted just to leave it. "I haven't been jealous in a long time."

"Jealous?" she smiled. "When have you been jealous concerning me?"

"Well," he stepped into a rowboat carefully and held a hand out for her. She smirked and hopped into the boat, landing catlike, hardly shaking the floating dory. He cocked an eyebrow at her and continued with his memory. "I remember back when you and I were masquerading … Jadent, Elizabeth's cousin, used to flaunt himself to you at every opportunity, and I'm not even counting the things I heard about him doing while I was "dead"."

"You were jealous then?" she asked, wrinkling her nose and smiling. She locked her oar in place and waited for him to unhook the line. "Why?"

Jack gave her a funny look. "Did you think I was having you masquerade as my wife just for fun?"

She looked a little ashamed. "Well, I assumed it started out that way. You seemed awfully inclined to laugh about it when Norrington made the mistake." She looked at him as he locked in his oar. "Was it more than just a joke?"

"Well, not at first," Jack answered truthfully as they began to row towards _the Pearl_. "In a way, your wolf friend and I are alike in the fact that we value you for what most women lack. I knew I wanted you around for more than any bloody prophecy when you managed to row us away from _the Dragon _and _Opal _attacking that ship after we left New Orleans. You even found land. It must have taken you hours to get us there."

Scarlette had grown quiet. Jack didn't speak much like this and she wanted to give him every opportunity to talk while he had the chance.

He was concentrating on the rowing rhythm. "I knew that you could handle the life I'd been living, if any woman could. When you fell out of that tree a few days later, I was terrified." He gave a short laugh. "You ended up with temporary amnesia, but the rum took care of that."

"I seem to remember it taking care of a few other things as well," Scarlette spoke in a slightly snide way. Jack looked at her from the corner of his dark eyes.

"Oh, I had every opportunity on that island," Jack remarked. "I think how the events played out worked much better, however. At that point, I didn't want to lose you, not to any accident, enemy, or my own stupidity."

"You aren't stupid, Jack," she smiled, rowing with ease. "You weren't then, either. I was a young angry girl who knew she was drowning and didn't know how to stop. I was lucky you were so determined. Most men would have taken me at my word and not looked any deeper."

They were nearly brushing _the Pearl_, now. Jack motioned for Scarlette to climb up the side first. Gibbs put his hand out and helped her aboard. Jack secured the ropes to haul the boat back aboard and climbed up himself. Bootstrap held out his hand and Jack took it with his left hand. There was a moment where they stood, palms touching, and a small shock passed between them. The curse was complete. In fourteen days, the black spot would make its appearance, but not just on Scarlette.

Not long after her return from _the Bounty_, she and Jack had sat beside each other, hand in hand, her right, his left. Jones had made the spot appear on her right hand. Now Jack, carrying the invisible spot, had passed it on to the last of the cursed, Bootstrap.

Not fifteen minutes after they had boarded, _The Empress_ drew closer and Sao Feng called upon Ryoko. She crossed decks and went below to raise the dead woman. Jack was a little wary about her leaving so soon, but he swallowed his worry, thinking about another … problem at hand.

The swords worked as a plan, but a better one would be to manipulate Davy Jones, and the only way to do that, was to find the legendary chest that held … something. Jack was not even sure what was in the fabled chest, but he knew someone who might. He felt in his coat for the cloth with the key on it. He was fairly certain, after hearing about Becket from a distressed Will, that the dastardly East India lord was after the same thing.

Which meant this _was _the key to the chest, or a drawing of it.

And there was only one person who could 'see' anything having to do with Davy Jones.

Jack was highly disinclined to talk to this person at the moment. The biggest deterrent was Scarlette. Everyone seemed so eager to meet her, enemies and allies alike, and in all the time they had been together, Jack had steered clear of most of them. But here, in less than a month's time, she would meet two such characters from his past, Sao Feng, and the only woman Jack had ever been truly afraid of in his lifetime.

"So, where to next, Cap'n," Gibbs spoke cheerfully.

Jack looked at Gibbs, so immersed in his dark thoughts that the other man's perkiness seemed almost intrusive. "Well, when Scarlette returns, we'll set out for … a certain island … that just happens to have a river … and other dangerous things."

"Well, a river's not too dangerous if you— oh," Gibbs paled. "You don't mean … _that _island … do you?"

Jack nodded. "I can only run from one thing at a time, Gibbs. Davy Jones will not be fazed much by cursed swords, even ones forged to fell that which holds immortal life."

"What're you thinkin'?" Gibbs asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

"What is Beckett after, do you think, sending Will after me compass?"

Gibbs thought about it but looked so confused that Jack rolled his eyes and gave up another hint. "What might the compass lead him to that could give him control?"

Gibbs frowned. "Supposedly there's a chest somewheres out there what could give him that sort of control … but he'd hafta have a key to open it, wouldn't he?"

"Scarlette filched this off his desk when she was playing French cousin to our dead commodore." Jack showed the key cloth to Gibbs, whose eyes widened.

"So we run from Jones, or run from Beckett, and that works," Jack spoke slowly. "But if we have to deal with both … things could get ugly, so I'm choosin' the lesser of evils, savvy?"

"But Jack … you've gotta pay her somehow," Gibbs wrung his hands. "I don't fancy endin' up as some critter. You know, I hear she turned some poor girl into a cat once for nothing more than bein' young."

Jack looked saddened and almost nostalgic for a moment. "We'll give her Ruby. She'll be able to rig it somehow to get energy off Ruby's feeding, probably. The ladies back in Tortuga did mention that Ruby would be of some use."

"Is Sao Feng going to let us have her back, is the question?" Gibbs wondered aloud.

Jack looked up at the gangplank. "It's already been taken care of." Scarlette was heading back, Ruby in front of her. Sao Feng trailed behind them, managing to look vaguely regal even in sea garb.

The ladies boarded _the Pearl_, followed shortly by their escort. Ruby was taken below, her new Chinese clothing covering much more than her old attire used to. Scarlette and Sao Feng joined Jack and Gibbs at the helm.

"Well, our deal has been fulfilled," Scarlette spoke to Sao Feng. He nodded and looked at Jack.

"I expect to get the sword back upon your first payment," Sao Feng spoke carefully, the threat present but not so hostile as to start a fight at the mere mention.

"Fine with me," Jack snorted. "As long as it happens after Jones is … accounted for, so to speak."

Sao Feng nodded and turned back to Scarlette. "It is farewell then, for a time. You are much like Persephone. Take care that you do not become much _more_ like her. You have the powers of the land of the dead, yet you are alive and vibrant."

Scarlette pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips, lifting one eyebrow. "Where did your obsession with the Greek pantheon start?"

He only smiled and walked towards the plank connecting the ships. "Farewell, Sparrows and company. Next time we meet, it will not be on such friendly terms." He walked across the plank and it rose. _The Empress_ sailed out as soon as everything was back in place.

Jack watched her masts grow smaller and smaller and when he was sure no one from _The Empress_ would hear him, he cheered. "I am _ever so _ecstatic that they're finally gone."

"Aw, they weren't that bad, were they?" Scarlette laughed. Jack gave her an almost murderous look.

"You didn't have to entertain them for over a month," he growled. He looked at Gibbs. "Let's get out of here. You know where to take us."

Gibbs sighed and ordered the crew about. Jack and Scarlette stood at the stern and both watched the land draw farther away. Scarlette thought she saw a white figure at the edge of the trees and the ghost of a howl wafted through the afternoon haze. She gripped the hand of the man beside her and smiled to herself, snuggling into his arm.

…**.**

Cute. Well, I bet you guys know who we're going to run into next. All I have to say about it is I'll be writing a lot of dialect that doesn't include many "th" sounds.

Well, it is late, Ladies and Gentlemen. It is May 1st, 3:19 am. And the page count is 492. So much for thinking the 2nd story was only going to be about 350 pages long. Let's see. At this chapter, _last_ story, we were at 505. That was the Disneyland chapter, in case anyone remembers that particular silliness.

So, playing Kingdom Hearts II the other day, I made up a new word that will probably appear in either Sean to Tony's vocab later on. It was Kickassness … and apparently it comes fresh _or_ in a can.

Cheers, kidlets!


	20. Chapter XIX: Heart of the Subject

This little author is relearning how to play the trumpet. As befits a tuba player, low notes come easy, but high ones are pretty are out there. I won't be joining any symphonies just yet, but for the show, Alice, I should be fine.

So, here we are, on May 1st. Only 24 days until _Pirates of the Caribbean; At World's End_ comes out. 24 days to finish this story. I doubt it's going to happen, honestly. I have too much going on.

But, anyhow, on with the show.

**Chapter XIX –The Heart of the Subject**

Jack concentrated on the horizon and thought over words Sao Feng had given him. They had talked of Beckett while waiting on the shore for Scarlette to return and the Asiatic captain had put in his own ideas about why Beckett might want the compass.

"Whatever you must do to keep it from him," Sao Feng had spoken on day, just as the sun was setting. "You must do it. I do not fully understand the powers of your compass, but if it can lead him to something that would potentially put all the world's pirates in danger, it must be kept away from him."

"According to young William," Jack had answered. "If I give up the compass, I will receive a full pardon and be like as not a privateer."

"Ah," Sao Feng gave a weak smile. "Jack Sparrow, you know better than to assume you will be spared the piratical holocaust based on Beckett's word."

Jack had agreed with him, and now he stood at the helm of his beloved ship, steering south once again. Where he did not want to be the man who had damned all piracy just to free himself, he did not much like being the idea of piracy's champion, either. He didn't see how he could possibly choose another option, unless he could get his hands on the Letters, signed of course.

For now, he would live to his own agenda. It had been a week since they left New York and the winds had been more than fair. They were ahead of schedule and were set to arrive at a particular island just the north side of the Caribbean in the next week. The waters were steadily changing color from the slate blue of the Atlantic Ocean back into the aquamarine color Jack's heart cried out for when he was away.

Scarlette had woken up that morning and spoken in a groggy, creepy voice. "_Seven days …_" She had burst into laughter at that and wouldn't explain why it was funny. Jack knew she wouldn't taunt him purposefully, not about Jones, so he assumed it was some future thing. Probably one of those movies she talked about once in a while.

They were faced with another problem, however. Ruby, unable to shed power was once again breathing lust. She had been allowed to roam the ship, provided she behaved herself. She had 'behaved' admirably. She hadn't even tried to seduce anyone in the week she'd been back, but her self-discipline showed. Her powers were leaking out and making the men all a little edgy. It wasn't something she could control, and she and Scarlette being the only women on board, one who was off limits by association with the captain, and the other … well, who wanted their energy drained off, even if they had a great time during the siphoning process?

Scarlette had quickly found out however, just why it was Ruby wasn't trying to seduce anyone. The pirate had caught the half siren gazing at none other than Will Turner. Scarlette was quiet, and watched the scene for a while. Ruby would look over at Will while he as doing some task and sigh, casting her gaze to the ocean. Scarlette could almost feel the sadness pouring off the other girl. She was in love with Will Turner.

This blonde thing, the coquette that had made Scarlette's life a misery in any way she could, was in love with the most innocent of men. Scarlette laughed in spite of herself. She actually felt sorry for Ruby. She decided that it wouldn't hurt to try to befriend the girl. Maybe she could help turn her mind away from Will.

She approached Ruby on day seven and sat just behind her. Ruby did not move but did not speak either. Scarlette shrugged and went right into it. She had always been blunt, to say the least.

"Pretty, isn't he?" she whispered, just behind Ruby's blonde head. The pale girl turned and looked incredulously at Scarlette.

"What do you mean?" Ruby was a good actress, but only when people were watching.

Scarlette laughed. "I know why you've been holding off on using your power. I'm proud of you."

"Oh, what do you know?" Ruby hissed, turning away from her.

Scarlette thought about it and realized she knew a fair bit about Ruby. She tried remembering where she had learned all of this information about the girl's life but couldn't place it. Then she thought back to the mental linkup she'd used with Norrington during the whole East India Trading Company bit and realized she must have kept some of the information.

"You'd be surprised at how much I know," Scarlette answered her. "I know why you work the way you do. You've had a tough time of it."

"He told you, didn't he," Ruby's voice was low and sullen. She was referring to Norrington.

"Not exactly," Scarlette answered. "Don't worry, I didn't force it out of him … it just sort of … fell into my head from his."

Ruby sighed and glanced back at Will. "If I truly wanted him, I could make him love me."

"Oh, I honestly doubt your voice or your body would budge good ol' Will from his everlasting love for Elizabeth," Scarlette remarked, watching Will as well. "She is something he would risk the world for just to be near. At the moment, he thinks he's saving her by working with Jack to get that compass. Odds are, however, that she's safe, in the company of friends."

Ruby scowled and crossed her arms. "Oh, those damn proper women, thinking they can look down on me for what I do? I do what I have to just to stay sane!"

Scarlette laughed. "Yes, well … Elizabeth is quite proper, and doesn't always understand other types. She doesn't even really try to understand, either, so you can't please her. However, Ruby, not every man wants a proper woman …." she let her words trail off, hoping the bait would be taken. Ruby looked at her, her eyebrows knotted.

"What are you saying?"

What _was _she saying? "Well, I know of a fairly good looking man, who happens to be single, and he doesn't mind if you're not proper at all."

Ruby seemed to be taking the bait whole and Scarlette smiled as she continued. "All he needs is for _you_ to need _him_."

"Who are you talking about?" she finally asked with wide eyes.

Scarlette grinned. "Well, Makeo has been on this particular adventure for a while, and now we don't have time to take him back to Tortuga before things get really rough. I suggest perhaps that you two enjoy each other's company while you can." Scarlette shrugged. "You never know. Maybe you're just what he's looking for, and vice versa."

_Y'all thought I was gonna say 'Angel', huh?_

"Him?" Ruby looked a little wary. "But he's a bandit."

Scarlette laughed aloud this time. "Darlin', you've been in the company of pirates for years and not complained. He is no different, save for his deeds are done on land. And he's no mere bandit. He's the Bandit King, le Roi de Gitan."

"I suppose," Ruby was actually weighing it. Scarlette couldn't believe her luck. She had managed to avoid a confrontation between Ruby and Elizabeth, who might or might not have shown up.

She was silently relishing in her accomplishment when she heard someone call her name rather desperately. Jack was on the top deck, waving frantically at her. She stood and hurried up the stairs, laughing shortly at Jack, who had put on a strange coat taken from _the Bounty _before it had been left. It was Asian cut and the shoulders had a tiered armor look.

"What's wrong?" she asked, seeing his face cringe when she laughed.

"I'm feelin' the need to don weaponry, luv," he answered, keeping his teeth from clacking together.

She frowned. "We still have seven days until we need those swords."

Jack looked at her. "Yes, for dear ol' Davy Jones to make his appearance … however, if you look out there to the larboard bow …" he pointed. Scarlette looked out and in the distance saw a nasty storm sitting on the horizon. The skies and sea around it looked serene and untouched.

Scarlette squinted. "My, that is peculiar."

Jack nodded. "The Lyandize and Tyrnise are still at war. Don't think they won't swarm to this ship."

"Why should they do that?"

Jack gave her a dark look. "I had it explained to me once that each ship has its own signature. _The Pearl _is a highly recognizable pattern, and the kraken has been eating merfolk because _you _had a deal with them and with Jones simultaneously. Do you think they're just going to let my ship alone?"

Scarlette sighed. "All right. Swords on, although, yours is the only one that can do much. I can calm the storm, maybe. Bootstrap's can't do much this far out to sea … but you … well, you'll see." She made her way down the stairs and returned a few moments later, the blue sword on her back once again. She handed the red sword to Jack and he looked at it for a moment as she went to find Bootstrap.

The blade glowed a dim red in the light, but still managed to be brilliant, though the sun was its usual cheery self. Jack's palm felt warm where he held the scabbard. He slung the sword over his shoulder and felt it move.

Startled, he took it off again and was fairly confused. It had been a long tai-chi sort of blade before, but in his hand now it was just like his own sword, but longer. Interesting. It seemed to change to fit the wielder. He slung it back over his shoulder and watched the brewing storm.

Scarlette and Bootstrap cleared the steps, arguing about something. Jack's attention turned to them.

"Is there a problem, mates?" He looked from Scarlette to Bootstrap and they sort of glared at each other.

"He won't take the sword," she answered glumly.

"Oh, well," Jack cracked. "More for me."

"I seriously advise you _not_ to dual wield these swords, Jack," Scarlette scolded. He laughed nervously and shrugged.

"I was only kidding," he told her, noting her stern face. "What about you, Bill?"

"I deserve any fate I brought upon myself," Bootstrap answered. "If Jones comes to call, I will go. I won't risk everyone here, Jack Sparrow."

_Not like you_, the unspoken words were just as loud as his vocal words. Scarlette looked at the dark wood and cursed herself for not being as strong as Bootstrap. When Jack had been in danger, she'd been perfectly ready to give her life to save him, but now, when they were relatively outside of danger and together to boot, she was not so brave or selfless. Bootstrap, however, was willing to pay his price to spare those who hadn't cursed themselves.

"I see," Jack spoke, keeping his voice light. Scarlette would never know how he managed to make light of so many insults. Perhaps it helped to know that they were usually true.

"I will take the sword," a voice spoke from behind Bootstrap. Everyone turned and found William Turner, the younger.

"No!" Bootstrap cried out. "Don't use it, William."

"I must, on one condition," Will looked at Jack pointedly. "When this battle with Jones is over, I want your compass. I need it to free all our names from Beckett. With your cooperation, even you, Jack, will be free."

"And no better than a rent-a-pirate," Scarlette growled.

"Deal," Jack spoke suddenly. He looked to Scarlette who tossed the green sword to Will. It lengthened at his touch into a rapier fit for skewering anything that could bleed.

Will felt the power running through the blade and knew that the sword's magic would compel him to be as brutal as he needed to keep Elizabeth safe. He slung the sword over his shoulder.

"You're all fools," Bootstrap growled. "Those swords are cursed things. They change who you are. Did you not see Scarlette with the water blade? She is not that cold, even when she kills. You will be changed."

"Perhaps that is the price of freedom," Jack sighed. "I would rather carry the emotional attribute of this sword than be taken down by Davy Jones in his crocodile machine."

As usual, Jack managed to turn what might have been a great line into something silly that would provoke laughter from anyone happening to recount the conversation.

"Scarlette, I thought better of you," Bootstrap picked. "You've been around _him _too long, I'd say. William … you take the sword for honor, but careful, boy, that you do not lose yourself for the sake of others who may be less deserving. Jack … I have nothing more to say to you. You won't be able to talk your way out of Jones and I doubt fighting will amount to much in the end." He turned and left down the stairs and the three bladed individuals sighed, each an issue flying in their head.

…**.**

Beckett paced in his office, as he sometimes did when no one was watching. Whenever anyone was present, he was at his best, calm, composed, articulate. Mercer was the only one who ever saw even a fraction of his distraught habits.

Strange storms were roaming the ocean and taking out ships that were strong enough for nearly any squall. The kraken had been sighted twice in the last month by marine patrols and still, there was no word of where on earth or sea _the Pearl _was bound.

The Honorable East India Company, as it was sometimes called, although lately it had been decidedly _dis_honorable, employed a variety of men they called their marines and mercenaries. These men were generally as rough as pirates and had somewhat specialized skills. Beckett had made up his mind long ago that if the situation had deteriorated in such a way, that he would depart with one such group and sail until he found what he wanted.

He made the necessary arrangements quite easily himself but sent Mercer to inquire as to who was to be left in charge if he, Beckett, were to vacate the area temporarily. Mercer came back with the answer that Lieutenant Gillette was technically the commanding officer if Beckett was elsewhere. Beckett made a note to press gang Gillette and his surrounding officers until Mercer was left in charge of Fort Charles and Port Royal.

Where Governor Swann was in charge as seen by the crown … he was little more than a figurehead, and a pushover. Mercer would have no trouble at all. Beckett smiled to himself, pouring wine into a crystal glass. He would have that compass and the chest as well.

Mercer saw the gleam in Beckett's eye and made a comment. "They're all close at hand."

"Yes," Beckett smiled, sipping his drink. "It may be advantageous however to not kill some of them."

Mercer frowned. "Who are you planning on sparing?"

Beckett's expression did not change much. He met Mercer's eyes and the corners of his mouth turned up just a tad. "The best thing about pirates is that they lack a moral center. All we need is one who will divulge the locations of the others in the event that the compass does not."

"And who would that be?" Mercer asked again, wanting to follow but having trouble.

"Who indeed," Beckett answered. Dreams of controlling the seas danced through his head. Until recently, he'd been working on an investigation concerning the Bengal treasury. There were suspicions that Baron Robert Clive, formerly known as Colonel Clive, had stolen quite the amount from the treasury, seeing as he had led the attack on Palashi all those years ago.

He was a Company officer, and so it was a little hard to cover up, but they were managing. The only reason Beckett had come to deal with the Caribbean pirates instead of continuing the investigation was because of the scandal it would cause if he were to accuse Clive now.

Beckett smirked. Clive's lucky day would be appreciated by very little men on the seas.

…**.**

_The Pearl _entered the storm that night, or rather, the storm enveloped _the Pearl_, almost by will. Scarlette raised _Aoi-rozuka_, the sword of Davy Jones, into the air and the rain immediately slackened. She pointed at the waves and with a cascading sound of water, they began to behave a little softer.

Scaled hands touched the wood of _the Pearl _as the merfolk attempted to drag down the ship. There were enough of them that they might be able to do it, too.

There was a loud, wet, thump on the deck nearby and Scarlette turned to see a familiar mermaid.

"Lizzy," she spoke. "You got away, then."

"In a manner of speaking," she answered. "We were pressed into the war. However, if I am up here, they cannot make me fight."

Scarlette smirked. "Right. They're trying to kill us."

"Not for long," Jack growled in a very uncharacteristic way. The women looked at him as he pulled _Kuroi-agohige_ free from its scabbard and swung in the direction of the water farther out to sea. Flames roared from the blade and danced upon the water.

"Lucky you didn't do that next to us," Scarlette remarked. "_The Pearl _is highly flammable."

"As is any ship," Jack answered angrily. He grabbed a rope, and to Scarlette's horror, swung himself overboard. She looked over the railing at him, swinging wildly, dipping the sword of flame into the water. The merfolk below screamed and moved away from the ship. Jack sheathed the weapon and climbed back up the rope.

"That ought to make 'em think," he sighed. "I'm not usually so … full of rage. The swords do change what one's mental chemistry seems to be."

Will had joined them, the green sword still untouched on his back. The four of them stood, though in Lizzy's case, sat, silently as the crew rushed around, maintaining the ship.

…**.**

The group of girls stood on a beach in Crescent City, watching the waves. Most of them had rather wistful looks upon their faces.

Robin had wondered the entire time how Topher had been faring. Knowing he was still stuck in that cell worried her greatly. She wished that she could just appear there and whisk him out, but she'd brought the idea up to the other girls. They had understood her feelings but had to deny her what she wanted.

One, there was nowhere he could stay in this time. Chelsea and Kristin lived in a gated dorm. No men were allowed. Not to mention, he was safer in that cell than he'd be either with them or on _the Pearl_. The others also didn't think it was fair for Robin to have her man of choice when Elizabeth was without. Claudia, Kristin, and Chelsea were currently without, unless one counted Groves back in Port Royal, of whom Kristin was rather fond.

Elizabeth stood in her uncomfortable jeans, her hair flowing freely in the wind. She looked out to sea and sadly sighed. She couldn't help asking the ocean to bring Will home, even though this ocean was a few hundred years too late to deliver him.

Claudia was bored with the whole venture. She wished she had stayed with Scarlette on _the Pearl_. Adventure was grand, even dangerous ones. She couldn't for the life of her recall why she _hadn't_ stayed.

Of course, if she _had_ stayed, Scarlette would have left her in Tortuga just as she had Heather. Scarlette was easily the most chauvinistic woman sometimes. She was fine with risking the lives of Sean and Tony, but Heather, a female … and Claudia as well, had she been there … she wouldn't risk them.

Chelsea and Kristin sat close together, Kristin watching the water and Chelsea drawing pictures in the sand.

"A few more days and we'll go back," Chelsea spoke loudly enough to be heard over the surf. "Either we'll be of some assistance … or we'll end up as kraken food."

"I wonder if they sell that," Claudia joked. "Kraken food … like kraken bits for your fish tank friends."

"Claudia," Robin spoke at last. "I don't know if any of us are in the mood to laugh."

Claudia kicked at the sand. "I'd rather laugh than cry."

…**.**

Davy Jones sniffed the water before him and roared angrily as he tasted the powers of not one but two of the cursed swords.

"That rat has found the sword of blazes," he burbled to Maccus. "They are planning on escape, those winged fools. I do not taste the third blade, however. It is possible that they do not know of it."

Maccus looked confused. "There are other blades like the one you gave the girl?"

"There were eight once," Jones sneered, snapping his teeth before him and blowing an impressive bubble from one of his 'noses'. "Now, only three are in reach of any on this plane."

"What happened to the others?"

"It matters not what happened to them," Jones spurted angrily. "What matters is that the battle for their souls may be a difficult one if I am not careful." He turned to Maccus. "We must catch them when one or more of their swords cannot be used."

"When would that be?"

Jones smirked but it was more of a grimace when Maccus attempted to imitate. "Assuming they've acquired the third blade … the earthen one cannot be used unless on land. The flamed one is a universal and can strike at any time. Mine, of course, cannot be used too far inland. We will have them whether they fight or not."

"Six more days," Maccus cackled.

"Seven and a bit o' change," Jones corrected. "And forget not that you were once a soul running from me as well. It is well that you have accepted your place here, but arrogance is not becoming in a shark."

"I am not a shark," Maccus snapped. Jones' eyes flicked to him.

"No, she told you that you were human," he smiled. "And you've started believing it. You are a man no more, Maccus. Not anymore than those doomed above will be."

Maccus did not speak but meshed his serrated teeth together and watched his captain.

Jones hummed a tune to his own ears and laughed a bit as he thought of what would happen in one week's time. Even the cursed swords would not fool him into a trap.

…**.**

After the confrontation with the mermaid storm, it took what seemed like no time at all to reach their destination. However, on the last day of freedom, _The Black_ _Pearl _arrived at the mouth of a river. Jack ordered it beached and careened as he chose a few men to go with him. He had intended on leaving Scarlette out of it but she had insisted on coming along.

The boat was full to capacity. Jack, Scarlette, and Will were inside. Bootstrap had declined, deciding he would remain on shore with the majority of the crew. Gibbs, Sean, Tony, Cotton, Makeo, Marty, Ragetti and last and possibly least, if not smelliest, Pintel rounded out the others. Scarlette found herself once again the only woman. She was wedged, thankfully, between Will and Jack.

The boat drifted along as Ragetti and Pintel rowed, arguing to each other on just who was doing what too fast or too slow. Gibbs finally told them to shut their gobs, much to Sean and Tony's mirth. They thought gob was a funny word. They had made up a song to keep the idiots in time.

"Doom, doom. Doom, doom, _row, ya bastards!_"

As the boat made its way upriver, the jungle about them grew thick enough to block most of the light blazing down on the island. There was a snapping sound to the left side of the small boat. Everyone looked over, startled by the sudden noise. A large crocodile had just practically inhaled some sort of simian creature.

"Welcome to the bayou," Jack mumbled. Scarlette's ears perked up.

"Bayou … Disneyland … that's where they got it."

"Pardon?"

"Never mind."

Scarlette's eyes had focused on a figure seated upon a giant statue's head. Once again, she was reminded of Disneyland, only it wasn't Pirates of the Caribbean she was remembering. This place was like a darker, scarier version of the Jungle Cruise.

Fireflies winked in and out of vision, despite the hour of the day. Eventually, the little overcrowded boat arrived in a sort of cul-de-sac of water. There were several huts on stilts, torches lit. There was one in particular that Will Turner found ominous and foreboding. Skulls and other grisly items decorated the front of it and he was certain there was a passel of shrunken heads hanging beneath a tribal mask near the door. He sighed, knowing the odds were good that the sinister hut was their destination.

True enough, Jack pointed and the stooges rowed. He tied a short line onto the landing before the door and hoisted himself up. Scarlette and Will followed, nearly knocking each other into the water in their enthusiasm to leave the loaded craft.

Jack called back a command to, you guessed it; _mind the boat_, which of course was passed down the line. Makeo ended up with it last and waited until Jack had entered the hut. He stood, muttering. "Mind your own damn boat." He entered the hut to a most peculiar scene.

Makeo had never actually met his _other_ aunt, but he'd heard tales of her powers. Tia Dalma made Libussa and Unorna look like minor practitioners and did have a habit of turning verbose young women into animals. Makeo almost hoped for a confrontation between her and Scarlette.

He entered the hut and nearly laughed aloud. Tia Dalma, the mysterious woman he'd heard so much about, had been happy at Jack's arrival, but upon the entrance of Will and Scarlette, her face had turned serious. She had a hand on Jack's face and Scarlette was frowning already.

Tia Dalma, much to Makeo's delight, however, spoke to him as soon as he entered. "Ah, you are de one I never seen. How are you, my chil'."

Makeo grinned. "Hello, ma'am. I've heard quite a bit about your voodoo prowess."

"Not so much as I've _seen _about you, young one," she smiled and her teeth oozed. "How may I be of service to you?"

"My, you must be feeling generous," Jack commented, sitting down at a table in the middle of the cluttered room. "You haven't asked for payment, yet."

She moved about the room, caressing her odd collection of paraphernalia. She ran her hand down a large albino constrictor that had coiled itself around a coat rack. "I sense dat you have some'ting new, Jack Sparrow."

"New is one way of putting it," Jack grunted. "We'll take you to see what we've got for you after we've negotiated."

"Dere is not'ing to negotiate, cap'tin," she answered, smiling her dark crescent at him. "You need me advice, I gib it you … but who is dis?" she looked at Scarlette as if she knew exactly who she was and was only slightly happy to see her.

Scarlette raised her eyebrows and tried to look non-threatening. Tia Dalma drew close to the other woman and brought her hands up, hovering over Scarlette.

"You are jus' full o' strange tings," Tia Dalma actually looked surprised for a moment. "Power o' deat', but de sea is mixed wid it … an' de wolves." She smiled as she said 'wolves' and batted her eyes, not necessarily in a seductive way, but Scarlette blinked. Without warning, Tia Dalma seized her right hand and looked at her palm.

The palm was bare and Tia Dalma giggled shortly. "Tings will come wen dey come, Ryoko."

"You know my name," Scarlette spoke, not a question. "Sao Feng knew my name … Angel insisted on calling me by that name."

"Remember who you are, garl," she spoke somewhat harshly. "An' you," she turned to Jack. "Dis one is okay, den. I tol' you lang ago dat you would find one like 'er."

"Maybe," Jack couldn't actually recall her saying anything about women but he hadn't paid much attention once she'd turned someone he'd known into a cat.

Will was getting impatient. "We need your help, please." He wished he hadn't spoken because her attention moved to him instead.

"Dat weapon on your back," she flitting her hand in his general direction. "It is not your duty to carry sech a blade. But, if you must, William Turna, do so wid'out fear." She turned back to Jack, who fished out the cloth and placed it silently on the table before her. She sat and picked up the cloth gingerly.

"Your compass don' work for dis, do it?" she asked, smiling. Jack snorted at her and looked away. She laughed.

"Jes … you see, dis key is not always cardinal in direction. Dat compass cannot go up an' down."

"Where is the key?" Jack asked at the same time that Gibbs asked as to what the key opened.

She looked at Jack and answered his question first. "Would you not keep sech an impartant key close to you, Jack Sparrow?"

Jack looked dejected. "Jones has it. I was afraid of that. Guess we'll just have to use the swords then."

She looked at him wryly. "Dat would not be a wise firs' choice, Sparrow. Fin' de key, an' open de chest."

"That would be your job, William," Jack pointed to him. "You want me compass, get me that key."

"You make it sound so simple," Will scoffed. He looked at Tia Dalma. "Well, what _is_ inside the chest?"

She giggled and put a slim, dark hand to her chest. "Inside de chest, you find de heart o' de man from which dey run. Davy Jones."

"But … he can't live without a heart," Tony sounded confused. Sean decided to pitch in as well.

"Yeah," he added. "I mean … how does he breathe, or talk, or … live. Doesn't he need his blood pumped too?"

"He couldn't lit'rally put 'is heart in a chest …" Pintel, of course.

"Could he?" Ragetti swallowed.

"And why would he do it?" Will asked curiously.

Tia Dalma smiled again. She enjoyed telling these stories. "Davy Jones was one time a man like any o' you. A man o' de sea, wid a sea's gift. Power made him what him was … but no man is free from everyting." She gave a wicked grin towards Jack, who attempted to ignore her.

Everyone was rather drawn into her tale. "What happened?" Marty asked sincerely.

She smiled and said those intoxicating words. "Him run afoul o' dat which vex all men." She looked at Scarlette when she said this, though the others were much more attentive. Scarlette met her eyes and had no questions about Davy Jones' fate.

"What vexes all men?" Will asked, his face not so innocent any more. Tia Dalma switched her attention to him again and he pulled out of reach.

"The sea!" Gibbs exclaimed, not sounding very sure.

"Sums!" Pintel.

"The dichotomy of good and evil," Ragetti, of course, rewarded with a few odd looks.

"Spelling!" Sean added, shrugging.

"Asking for directions!" Tony supplied.

"BRAK! Ahoy rubbers!"

"No, no, _lubbers_," Marty shook his finger at the bird. He gave an odd look at Sean and Tony, who had covered their mouths to stifle hysterical laughter.

Jack met Scarlette's eye and spoke. "I have the distinct feeling you're all wrong."

"A woman," Scarlette answered quietly. Tia Dalma grinned again.

"Him fell in love," Tia Dalma crooned with relish. There were a few disgusted groans made by those who had never _seen_ the tentacle clad man, but heard stories enough to be grossed out by the thought of him.

"No, no, no, I heard it was the _sea _he fell in love with," Gibbs insisted, nodding. Tia Dalma grew sharp again.

"Were you dere to witness dis?" she asked of him.

"N-no … I … no," Gibbs looked genuinely confused again.

"Den 'ow do you know dis?"

He just shrugged, unable to form a sentence that would make sense and still make his point.

"It was a woman like de sea, changin', harsh, untamable … beautiful." She smiled again, her black teeth glittering like the shells of beetles. "But her gib him power, wid love and go away. Him never stop lovin' her … but some pains even de strongest cannot live wid. Him carve out him own heart an' lock it away in a ches', an' hide de ches' from de worl'."

"Where is the chest?" Scarlette whispered, gripping the table.

Tia Dalma smiled secretively. "De compass cin tell you dat mech. An' now, we go get my payment."

"I suppose," Jack stood. "Although, I'm not sure how much help you've been."

"Time 'as not curbed your tongue, Jack Sparrow."

…**.**

After everyone had piled into the boat, allowing room for Tia Dalma, she perked her head up and looked around. "Some'ting is happening."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked. "Something bad?"

She met his eyes and spoke softly. "Careful when goin' ashore, Jack Sparrow. De devil be close."

Ragetti and Pintel rowed much worse this time. Ragetti wanted to get to the ship fast so they could leave the dark jungle and Pintel didn't want to see what was happening out in the daylight. The boat turned in odd half circles. Finally, Jack told Sean and Tony to row instead. They weren't much better and whined about back and arm pain, but they were in synch and didn't argue.

The boat cleared the leaves around sunset, which meant they had spent longer than planned in the dark jungle shrouded bayou. _The Pearl _was just has it had been, only instead of a crew cleaning the hull, there were very few people on the shore. Those who were there were huddled behind _the_ _Pearl _to keep out of sight of the grand ship floating a ways off shore.

_The Flying Dutchman_ was there, picturesque as hell. Jack Sparrow gulped and Scarlette looked at her hands frantically. Both were bare. The Black Spot had not shown itself, thus they must still be safe. She didn't vocalize this, however. Jack and the others had jumped from the boat, dragging it to the sand. Everyone who was left carefully climbed out, their eyes on the ship offshore.

Behind _the Pearl_, Ruby, Lizzy, Armstrong, and a few others huddled.

"What happened here?" Will asked, noticing his father was not among those hidden behind the beached ship.

Armstrong answered him as quickly as he could. "We were careening the hull when there were loud shouts coming from the lookouts. We all turned around and it was just there. A bunch of men climbed out of the sea. They had all sorts of things growing on them and they hardly looked human in some cases. They grabbed Bootstrap … told us if we interfered they'd take us too. Most of the men fled into the jungle …."

Scarlette and Jack exchanged a glance while Will erupted into his rare anger. "You just let them take my father?"

"The other men ran before we even had a choice," Armstrong exclaimed. "There were only a handful of us. We were no match for them and if we'd fought, there'd be even less of us."

Jack pointed Ruby out to Tia Dalma. "Here you are. She's half siren and comes with all the packaging, except maybe immortality. She's yours, now tell us what the blazes is going on here!"

Tia Dalma looked out to the dreaded ship. "He will not come for you on dis island, Jack Sparrow, but he will not jus' go, eider." She stood facing _the Dutchman_, flat to front, stubbornly powerful.

"We still had one day left," Jack growled, glaring out at the ship.

"It's the swords," Scarlette spoke in slow horror. She looked at Jack. "He must have sensed that we had them when we used them the other night. He's trying to cut off all escape so that we'll be forced to make the first crucial move." She turned to Tia Dalma. "How long can Jones be on land when he does make an appearance?"

"One day's time be all," she answered, not steering her gaze from the ship.

Scarlette snapped. "So we go inland and hide along the island in different places. You said the island was fairly large. It'll take him longer than a day to find us all."

"There is only one thing wrong with that plan, luv," Jack answered, frowning. "Two things."

"Well, what about it?"

"He's only looking for one of us."

Scarlette sighed, wanting to tell him otherwise but not being able. "And the other reason?"

Jack turned to her. "On this island is a tribe of murderously hungry cannibals called the Pelegostos."

Scarlette stood, slightly stunned. She looked into the woods. "You mentioned them once before … Then the men that fled into the jungle …."

"Aye," Jack answered glumly. "They've probably been captured."

"This just gets worse and worse," Will whispered. He stood and addressed everyone. "We must free the men … and then we can deal with Jones."

"They abandoned our benefits when they abandoned the ship," Gibbs called out. "We'll not be freein' the likes o' them deserters."

Will pulled out his sword, not _Tekagi-fukku_, but his own blade. Pointing it at Jack angrily, he spoke without an inch of shyness. "We will free the men, or I will not get your bloody key."

Jack just sighed. "William, you may be dooming us all right this moment."

"That may be," Will answered. "But how less doomed would we be if we took to the seas with that ship chasing you?"

"Well, let's not waste time then," Scarlette spoke up. "If we're going to rescue them, we'd better get going."

"Foolish young tings," Tia Dalma crooned. She beckoned Ruby to follow her, and rather than be included in the crew's rescue team, Ruby went along with Tia Dalma. Makeo followed as well, giving Jack a sneer.

"Well, off we go then," Jack grunted unenthusiastically. He started walking towards the jungle and the others followed. He turned and addressed those following him. "Anyone who wishes to remain behind to watch the ship may do so. Ragetti and Pintel ran halfway to the ship, caught sight of _the Dutchman_ and were undecided. Their only consolation was that Jones was not after _them_ per say. They stayed with the ship and were joined a few minutes later by Sean, Tony, and Lizzy, all of whom Scarlette had sent back.

…**.**

They had been trudging through the thick jungle incline for a while before they reached a more level area. The ground was thick with vegetation but the trees had grown sparse. Palm trees and trees bearing coconuts that would fall and bludgeon someone without a moment's notice graced this island.

They stopped in the middle of this sort of flat land. Jack seemed to be confused. He turned around and counted the men.

"What's wrong?" Scarlette asked.

"We should have been ambushed by now," he answered. "We're missing men, as well." He looked around. There was no cover for them or anyone else around here so the 'casualties' that were missing must have been taken in their passing through the jungle.

Jack noticed that to make any progress towards the peak, they would have to reenter the jungle. He also knew that the moment they cleared the trees, they would be attacked and seized. He decided to put it to the men.

"We are completely surrounded by jungle full of Pelegostos," he spoke aloud. "As soon as we enter those trees, they will be on us. We can't fight back. They will capture us and we will be left to find a way out that way or be eaten, understand?"

The men all looked stonily at Will, who was feeling a bit sheepish. Jack smirked. "We can _try_ to go back the way we came, but odds are the situation behind us is the same. These natives have been well trained. However …" he grinned. "They do not know how to _divide_ their forces."

"And how do you know all this?" Will asked angrily. Jack smiled, as debonair as always.

"Trade secret, mate," Jack gestured back the way they came. "We'll walk in that direction. Draw pistols, but keep them at your sides, unobtrusive. Fire when I say so, understand?"

"What are we doing?" Marty asked from near the ground.

"Scare tactics," Jack answered, walking forward, his pistol gripped in his right hand. "Will, bring out the sword."

Will pulled out his saber and readied himself. Jack shook his head and pointed.

"The _other _sword," Jack answered. "We're going to scare the cannibals away from attacking us. You'll know what to do with it." Jack drew his own weapon left handed and Scarlette followed suit, only switched her hands, shooting left and swording right.

They walked towards the jungle in the direction they had come. Will exclaimed before they got there, as Jack knew he would.

"But if we're going to scare them, why not scare them and try to save the others?"

"William, if this works, we'll _think_ about saving the others," Jack surveyed his remaining men. "We didn't lose anyone too valuable anyway."

"We can escape elsewhere," Scarlette whispered. "Jones hasn't made a move on us yet for a reason. He had every opportunity to come to land and grab us. Why hasn't he?"

"I'd rather not find out," Gibbs answered. "Can we sail 'round the island? Ride between the reefs, maybe and catch the wind to Tortuga?"

"Wind is blowing northward," Marty answered. "That'll get us through the reef traps, but send us back to the Americas."

They were nearly at the trees and Jack looked at Scarlette. "We're going to need a miracle on this one, luv."

She sighed. She was fresh out of miracles, currently. She followed her husband into the trees, less than fearless, but confident that whatever happened, she'd probably survive, in some way.

The natives popped out of the foliage, like daisies and it was only by miracle, not via Scarlette, that the men didn't shoot prematurely. Jack smiled nervously, flashing gold in the dim jungle. He gestured with his sword and a strange language flowed out of his mouth.

"_Tono iko. Mabali. __Chu ya wotsai. Shimooku _BANG-BANG, savvy?"

"_Kali kali te'en, da 'nga_!" A large one covered in what looked like green paint bowed his head and the others nodded as well. A few went to their knees but a majority licked their lips.

"That don't look too friendly to me," Gibbs gulped.

"What did you say to them?" Will asked nervously. Jack leaned back to speak to him.

"I told them if they tried to eat us, I'd make magic fire and toast them," he answered.

"Do they believe you?" Scarlette asked, slightly skeptically.

"Darlin'," he smirked. "They think I'm a god. Last time I was here, they crowned me _Kali_, their version of chief."

"Right," Scarlette spoke blandly.

"If you're on orderin' terms with 'em," Gibbs looked around wildly. "Why are they lookin' at us like we're a snack?"

"Because they believe by roasting me and eating my charbroiled body," Jack answered in a tragic sort of way. "That they'll be freeing said god's soul of its fleshy and rather restricting prison and that god will take favor on their miserable existence."

"Tell them otherwise," Will whispered urgently.

"Jack …" Scarlette spoke slowly, looking behind her. "We're being flanked."

"_Iseki chi li un lam se mochi,_" he pointed his sword above him and brought it down with a defining strike. A tree cracked and burst into flames. The natives moved away from it in a babble of their native tongue. Jack cut a line along the ground behind them and broke into a run. The others followed, skirting the flames he was shooting about.

"Fire!" Jack shouted, knowing better to say fire at will. No one present was dumb enough to do it, but they were scared and he thought it best not to confuse them.

The natives had given chase, shooting their arrows at the pirates, only to miss. They couldn't shoot and run at the same time and had been too startled to use their poison darts.

"Will! Sword!" Jack shouted. Will turned and swung the sword towards the Pelegostos, not knowing what would happen. A wall of earth rose up almost immediately, blocking one portion of the natives' pursuit. They moved around it like water and he used his next swing to carve a large trough in the ground. Some of them fell in with terrible screams.

Jack slowed and grabbed Will. "Scarlette, take the rest to the ship and use your blade to get the ship afloat. We'll be there in a moment."

"You'd damn well better," she shouted, running for all she was worth. Due to the boost from Joste and Angel, even her short legs carried her faster than the men. Her party broke through to find that Tia Dalma had taken the boat. However, Jones had seemingly vanished. She shouted orders for the men to attend to the ship and she dug the tip of her blade into the sand and ran around its hull, drawing as she went. She lifted the sword from the ground and the circle, from tide to tide, filled with water quickly, the ship slowly going level.

Jack and Will were swinging their way through the jungle, walking backwards steadily. Will cut a few more trenches and Jack filled them with fire. The Pelegostos were giving up the fight a bit at a time. Jack smacked Will on his arm and broke for it, the taller man following quickly.

"Run! Faster!"

They broke through the jungle seconds after Scarlette had gotten the ship afloat, followed by fifty or so Pelegostos, all yammering their heads off. Scarlette sheathed the blue sword and started running through the surf. Jack and Will were not far behind her and it took them no time at all to grip the lines being thrown to them.

They were each hauled aboard and once they were there, they flopped down breathlessly. Jack rose and limped to the helm, leaving Will and Scarlette on the deck. He sheathed the fire sword and gave the wheel a twist, following close to shore.

"Well," Scarlette coughed up seawater on the deck. "That was exciting. I can hardly wait to find out what happens next."

"We have to find that key," Will mourned. "_I_ have to find it."

Scarlette groaned. "So much for freedom, eh?"

…**.**

Bootstrap was dragged up roughly from the brig by Koleniko and Palafico. They brought him before their dreaded captain and continued to grip his arms painfully.

_The Dutchman_ was about a mile underwater and had halted their scare tactics on _the Pearl _for the moment. Jones nodded and the two crewman let Bootstrap go. He readjusted the black cap he had managed to keep on his head throughout the struggle.

"Welcome to the crew, Mr. Turner," Davy Jones gave two short guffaws and the crew echoed his laughter. "I hope you're not too surprised to see us."

"No," Bootstrap answered in a doomed sort of way. "But we were told you weren't going to show up until tomorrow."

"I decided you had had more than enough time above," he grinned, showing his human teeth. "And I wanted to make it clear that those bloody Sparrows were not getting out of their deals. I will seize them tomorrow."

"If you can," Bootstrap spoke. "They're prepared to fight you. I wouldn't go after them, if I were you."

"Your philanderin' persuasions will not save those two."

Bootstrap chuckled. "Jack has an odd way of getting people to fight for him. You'll not take him without some loss of your own. Is it worth it?"

"He may not be worth it," Jones growled. "But Scarlette will be. This ship has never seen a woman, and she's one who can survive here."

"But you can't seize her soul for thirteen years," Bootstrap insisted. "Not even if she fights for Jack. You can kill her, but her soul will never serve you if you do that."

Jones laughed in his incessantly evil way. "You make assumptions, Bill Turner. How do you know she has thirteen years before I collect? She didn't tell you that, surely."

Bootstrap paled and a large bubble erupted from his mouth. Jones smirked as his new acquisition burbled with terror.

"She … oh, God! She bargained to go with us," he spoke in horror. "Why would she do that? What could she gain for doing such a thing?"

"She seemed to think at the time it would give her courage," Jones answered. "Although I gathered she's changed her mind about making this easy."

"Jack doesn't know," Bootstrap mourned. "Why didn't we figure it out? She said several times, 'he's after _us _… when he comes for _us_' … We just assumed her bargain was congruent with ours."

"It was," Davy Jones added grotesquely, turning away from him. "Just more than one would ever think."

Bootstrap rushed forward but was restrained by the crew. "This isn't fair!"

Davy Jones rounded on him, tentacles floating dangerously around him. "I'll not discuss fairness with you, Bootstrap Bill, who made a deal with me nigh on twenty years ago. You've avoided the sea as much as you were able since your bloody curse wore off, postponing the day that you would have to pay up. Considering all the years I allowed you … that number is greater than what was subtracted from Sparrow's precious wench."

Bootstrap growled now, finding his backbone under pressure. "I'd seriously advise you to not call her that to her face."

"You are in no position to give me advice," Jones snapped. "However, you will answer my questions. They have the swords, correct?"

Bootstrap remained silent and Jones nodded. There was a loud crack as Greenbeard, a crewmember whose face was almost completely unrecognizable as human, brought the whip about. Greenbeard had been with the crew over fifty years. He snapped the whip again suggestively.

Bootstrap answered. "They have lots of swords. They are pirates after all."

"You know exactly which swords I mean, you lout," Jones replied as the whip bit into Bootstrap. They had not even taken the time to bare his back. He stiffened with the blow. "How many do they have?"

Bootstrap found this particular bit of news would probably discourage Jones from attacking them. He shrugged and spoke. "Three, to my knowledge." Another crack sounded and Maccus' voice rang out as Bootstrap cringed.

"You will address your captain as, _sir_," he shouted, gnashing his teeth in Bootstrap's face. Greenbeard giggled and squeezed the leather handle of his toy.

Davy Jones ignored the palace struggle and asked more questions. Bootstrap was as reluctant as they would allow and after what seemed like agonizing hours, they locked him in the brig for what was known as the 'holding period'. His back was thick with gouges, the blood carried away on the current. He was ashamed because he had told them everything he could without giving too much away.

He felt like a coward, his back torn to shreds and his pride nonexistent. He looked through the bars of the brig prison and noticed a person fused with the wall, eyes tightly closed. Would that poor chap's fate become his own?

…**.**

_The Pearl _had skimmed away from the island but remained inside the wind, which had thankfully changed course and started south again. Jack had explained that _the Pearl _was still the fastest ship in the Caribbean. With the wind, _the Dutchman_ couldn't gain enough room to even fire at the other ship. Of course, this was if the plague ship was above water. No one quite knew how fast it would travel below.

Before nightfall, there were a few words said for Bootstrap and the men who had been taken on the island. The crew now consisted of Jack, Will, Scarlette, Gibbs, Marty, Cotton, Armstrong, Sean, Tony, Pintel, Ragetti, Lizzy, Lejon, Ichiroku, Leech, and two other men who had managed to stay out of the clutches of the Pelegostos. Well, Cap'n Flint and Bob Marley were still alive as well, but mostly because they had taken to the air as soon as all the loud noises began.

Seventeen was enough to crew the ship but thirty had been a lot easier on the men.

The sun set with a clang in Scarlette and Jack's heads and they each, on separate sides of the ship, felt an odd tingle in their respective hands. Scarlette raised her right hand and stifled a gasp before Gibbs, who was busy with some rope beside her could notice anything. The Black Spot had appeared once again. She quickly tore a strip of fabric from her shirt and wrapped it about her hand, tying it with her teeth.

Gibbs had noticed by now that something was wrong. "What's amiss, lass?"

"Splinter," she answered quickly. "I pulled it out, but it's bleeding a little too freely."

"Aye," Gibbs answered. He showed his hands, rough and calloused. "Don't get much o' them anymore."

"Yeah," Scarlette answered distractedly, scanning the darkening water for signs of her doom.

Likewise, on the other side of the ship, helmside, Jack's left hand itched something awful. He went to rub the palm on the helm but a pang of something odd struck him and he glanced at the palm in question.

His breath was gone in a split second, sucked somewhere else as he saw the black mark on his hand. He started shouting orders frantically to the crew and pointed his prow due south. If he could get to port or even to land, then maybe they could think of something.

Scarlette was not long in joining him at the helm. She noticed his frantic lip biting and though she knew the answer, she asked him if he was all right.

He looked at her, her hands clenched on the lapels of her coat. He noticed the right was bandaged, the fabric pale against the darkness of her coat and hair. He'd taken the time to swaddle his own spot of doom … but why was _her_ hand bandaged?

The question was so interesting to him, he almost forgot that he was running for his life. "What happened to your hand?"

"Hmm? Oh, splinter," she said too quickly. She could act, just not in front of Jack. It was always hard for her to lie to people she loved. He gripped her wrist and jerked her against him.

"Well, then, I'll remove it for you."

"No! There's no time!" She exclaimed. "The kraken could attack at any time … or that ship could catch us!"

"What gives you that idea?"

She frowned. "You freaked about something. I used deductive reasoning. Our time is up, isn't it? It must be midnight."

Jack focused on her face, an odd look in his eyes. "My time is up, you mean …"

She didn't answer and her face stayed still, as if waiting for something. He seized her again and tried to go for her 'wounded' hand. She outmaneuvered him and gripped his instead. They both looked at their hands, his left, her right, gripped together, the bandages stark against their tanned flesh.

"What happened to _your _hand?" she asked in a tone that was devoid of emotion.

He frowned. "Slipped on my blade. Cut myself."

They both stared at each other, hands still gripped, unwilling to let go first. They both moved swiftly, grappling to find out what was really going on. Scarlette was better at hand to hand combat but Jack was stronger and soon she was pinned to his chest. Not actually willing to hurt him to find out, she stopped struggling as he unwound the bandage around her hand.

He saw what was there and cursed. "This makes no sense." She unwound his after he'd let her go and saw the matching mark on his palm.

"Sure it does, Jack," she answered in a rather blunt voice. "Think about it."

He tried to meet her eyes but she stared at the deck. He raised her chin until her gaze and his met.

"You don't have years … Why?"

"I'm a coward," she answered simply. "I didn't want to go alone if I had to … and I didn't want you to go alone either. It doesn't matter why now. He's coming, and not just for you. For the both of us."

Jack pulled her into his arms and planted a kiss on her forehead. "It was either very brave, or very foolish. Perhaps both in our case."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she whispered, gripping his coat in fear.

"Like you said, it doesn't much matter now," he looked at the night water. "It's all up to luck." He pulled out his compass, Scarlette still tight to his chest. The needle was spinning wildly.

"Is it doing that because Isla de Muerta has sunk?"

Jack looked down at her. "No. It doesn't point to that bloody island. This compass points to what one wants most. Right now, I don't even know what I want, but it probably isn't material."

Scarlette took the compass from him and the needle slowed a tad, reversing its wildly dance to finally point at Jack.

"Well that's reassuring," he quipped.

"I love you," she spoke miserably. He laughed, despite the situation.

"Funny how after all these years it's still difficult for you to admit it."

She frowned. "At least I admit it."

"I admit it."

"Do not."

"I love you."

"Are you two done squabbling?" Gibbs exclaimed. "We're not in wind anymore."

Jack corrected the ship and Scarlette moved away from him. "Here we go."

…**.**

_The Pearl _sailed hard through the night but land was far off. In the transition of the long hours of the night and wee hours of morning, there was a loud splash sound up ahead. Water rained down on _the Pearl _as something large breached nearby.

Jack knew, before he heard the raucous sound of men laughing, that the clock had just run out of time and died.

In a flash, the remaining crewmembers were seized. Jones and his crew bled over to the ship, traveling on the air and ripping themselves from the matter of the ship itself.

Jones appeared on the top deck before Jack. Jack didn't move but Scarlette backed up. She was shoved forward by Maccus, who hissed loudly. She and Jack ended up back to back.

They drew their swords simultaneously. Will had already done so, but there was no land for him to utilize. His sword was merely a weapon. It could still kill immortals and in the hand of someone who knew it well, even at sea it's powers would be fearsome … but Will was only a man.

Scarlette raised her weapon and rain gushed forth, pelting everyone. Jones laughed and gestured in her direction.

"I think not, Madame." _Aoi-rozuka_ vanished from her hand with a splash and Jones reclaimed his sword, transforming it once again into his beloved claymore.

Jack wielded his blade, the metal growing bright with his growing anger. Jones only laughed.

"You are out of options, Jack Sparrow," Jones crooned. "Two of the three blades you collected are of no use to you anymore and you cannot kill me with one."

"What will make you go away?" Jack asked, halfheartedly.

"The souls I have come to collect," the notorious monster answered.

"Ah, well …" Jack looked about, forming an idea. "Take William there. I'm sure he'd love the life experience." Will did not hear the comment because he had been bludgeoned. Clanker looked to his captain and Jones nodded. He picked up the limp Turner, leaving the sword on the deck. Clanker vanished, back to _the Dutchman_.

"Lovely," Jack smiled. "Pleasure doin' business with you, mate."

"You're not out of it yet, Sparrow," Jones exclaimed. "One soul is not equal to another."

"Then why did you take him at all?" Jack asked.

Jones smiled. "I enjoy the chase, Sparrow. If you think you have a chance, you will make my time hunting you more interesting."

"Ah," Jack answered. "So … you won't take _just_ Will for my soul? Is that what you're saying?"

"Something to that nature," Jones agreed. "As I said, one soul is not equal to another."

"Ah, so we've established that my reasoning is sound in principle, and now we're just haggling over price." (I _love _that line!)

"One hundred souls, three days," Jones growled. Jack smirked.

"Well, you've already got one," Jack pointed out. "So … shall we call it ninety-nine?"

"Acceptable terms," Jones nodded. He smiled again and Jack was a little concerned. Scarlette hadn't spoken since Maccus shoved her. Jack, not daring to take his eyes off the captain before him, made a gesture with his head.

"How much for the two of us?" Jack asked, smiling nervously. Jones looked oddly confused.

"Two of you? Why, I only see one."

"What?" Jack whirled now. Scarlette and Maccus were gone. A loud voice shouted from a slight distance and Jack ran to the rail ignoring the danger near at hand.

There was some commotion on _the Dutchman_. Someone was yelling their head off and running about. The clash of blades could be heard and Scarlette's battle cry echoed on the night air, even through the rain, which still insisted on pelting them.

Jack turned in anger towards Jones and snapped, something he didn't do often. "What is this about? You took her without warning. Why?"

"There is no amount of seafaring men you could trade me for her, Jack Sparrow," Jones answered, sneering. "She is a woman, and I won't trade one such as her, not even for your soul. You have three days, Jack Sparrow."

Jack was suddenly filled with a rage that was so hot there was no doubt that the sword was in control. He swung at Jones, his eyes blazing red. Jones parried with _Aoi-rozuka_ effortlessly and Jack was bombarded with water. The fire of the sword attempted to burn under the torrent, but was extinguished. Jack found himself on his backside in a puddle of water and ashes, _the Dutchman_ gone, along with Scarlette. _Kuroi-agohige_ sat subdued next to him, its glow dimmed by the constant torrent of water coming from the sky.

"Are you all right, Cap'n?" Gibbs whispered, kneeling near the felled man. Jack didn't speak. After a while, Gibbs tried again. "Cap'n … yer hand …"

Jack absently lifted his left hand and noticed vaguely that the Black Spot had vanished from his palm but an almost henna like mark had appeared on the back of it. It was the number three.

"Come on, Jack," Gibbs offered his own hand to his shocked captain and tried to get him to come back to himself. Jack finally spoke, though his tone was foreign.

"He took her."

Gibbs looked down. "Aye. But we can't help her or Turner unless we find that chest Tia Dalma told us 'bout."

"Yes," Jack pushed himself to his feet and brushed himself off. He picked up the red sword and looked it over. He finally sheathed it and met Gibbs' eye.

"Where to, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked, trying for cheerful and failing. Jack pulled out the compass, grim determination in his eye. There was no fooling himself at this point. What he wanted most was not to save his own skin. He wanted to find a way to save Scarlette and like in the movie, when he'd tricked Elizabeth to find a heading, he looked not at the immediate problem, but to the solution.

The needle spun and pointed west. Gibbs took note and called out to the men. Jack blinked and stumbled. Gibbs took the helm. Jack leaned against the rail, arms crossed.

"Go to bed, Jack," Gibbs told him.

"He gypped me," Jack spoke, still in that uncharacteristically soft voice. "Nearest populated island is five days from here. 'Cept for that Pelegostos island, and he knows we're not goin' back there."

"You don't really care, though, do ya?" Gibbs asked, laughing a little, despite the happenings. Jack didn't even look at him.

"No," he answered, barely above a whisper. "Without her, what does it matter?"

"I knew you were a softy, if only for her," Gibbs sighed. "Well … I'd rather not toast her like we did the others. Well get the chest and with or without that key, well force Jones."

"Coward," Jack whispered. Gibbs wasn't sure whom he was referring to and didn't think he needed to find out. Jack had slipped into another world, one located in his mind. It was a dark place.

"Why … why her? Why can't I leave her? Anyone else, I would let rot on that infernal ship. Curse my heart and weakness, but I cannot cut her from my breast. Damn this emotion, this precise blindness. Blast it all to hell and back! May the devil take me if I cannot banish this tiny woman from my weasley black heart."

"More men than you will request such a thing long before either of you meet your ends." The voice was strange, yet familiar, with no trace of European accent. Jack looked about, but the only thing that caught his attention as foreign was the snap of wood on the deck as a cane fell to the floor. He looked around in a dim shock, noting that there was no one in the cabin at all, no body in which to put that oddly familiar voice.

Jack could not decide which was stranger, the disembodied voice, or the man's words, warning him of something about which he wasn't even worried.

…**.**

Yeah, done. 5-6-07 4:37 am … yep. My birthday is in 3 days! Weee!


	21. Chapter XX: Hazing From Hell

Hey kids. How's it goin'? Good? Good. Actually, one would say "It is going _well_." Yeah, yeah, pedant. You know, 'yeah' isn't in the spell check? I accidentally typed 'yeha' and it wasn't there. What the hell?

Any ways, off with their heads.

**Chapter XX–Hazing from Hell**

Scarlette, once aboard _the_ _Dutchman, _pulled out her sword and gave the crew on that ship a run for their money. She knew they couldn't really be hurt, and so she wasn't pulling any punches, so to speak. She managed to decapitate Hadras, who was not really bothered by this other than his body nearly falling overboard as he tried to direct it to his head, started shouting in Cantonese.

Scarlette was getting fancy, swinging from ropes and such. Many of the men from _the Dutchman _were still on _the Pearl _and so it was harder to curb her than it would have been.

Maccus and Palafico rushed at her and she met them in a flurry of sword movement. Her speed had increased probably due to the power boosts she'd had since last meeting them. Clanker joined the fight and Scarlette ran again, not wanting to have a limb broken from his chain shot.

She gave a loud, throaty cry, much like the one Xena used to do and jumped into the rigging on the side of the ship. She fought them off valiantly, shouting all the while. She dropped from the rigging as Clanker swung his chains and he became caught in the webbing where she had been suspended.

She saw a brilliant flash of light in her peripheral vision and was distracted for a moment. There was fire over on _the Pearl_. Jack was using the sword.

Luckily, the others had been equally distracted. She broke for it again, wondering if diving into the sea was a good idea or not. She noticed an odd movement under the waves. Something large was down there. She thought better of jumping.

She looked for a grap-hook to throw but this ship wasn't close enough to _the Pearl _to board. Jones had probably done that on purpose.

She shouted in frustration and the two men clambered up to where she had run. She had made it to the top deck and gripped the helm, which threw her back with a jolt of power. She was stunned for a moment, leaning against the back wall of the ship. It was enough time for Maccus to pull her to her feet and take her sword away. Palafico grabbed her right arm and she growled in anguish. "Don't touch me!" Palafico let go of her, stunned for a moment.

Maccus gave him a strange look and shoved him. "What's your problem, mate? Been a pirate too long? She's a prisoner and the rules what apply to normal women don't in her case. Let's get her down to the brig."

Scarlette took the moment of distraction to drive her boot into the instep of the shark man's foot. He howled and smacked her away. She tumbled down the stairs, her face stinging and her sword gone, but she wasn't in their grips anymore.

She slid against the mast and pulled herself to her feet quickly, looking about for a weapon. Clanker came at her with his chain shot again and Hadras, with his head under his arm and a pike in his hand. Scarlette gave a good kick to Hadras and his head went flying up to the top deck, hitting Palafico in the chest. The coral encrusted man looked down in confusion as Hadras' dismembered head who was now shouting at him in heavily accented English.

"Find Ainito! My body!"

"Damn, fool," Palafico growled in his bass voice.

"Get the girl!" Maccus roared, blinking his one good eye. Greenbeard and Jimmylegs had joined the chase now. Jimmylegs, the bos'un, had already pulled out the whip. Greenbeard was a little jealous, but it was the bos'un's call.

Scarlette wasn't sure what to do now. She had five and a half men after her. They couldn't be killed. What had she done every other time this situation had befallen her? She had run and locked herself in the captain's cabin, arming herself to the teeth. She considered it for a moment but knew that if she didn't want to be caught by these loons, she sure as hell didn't want to be caught by Jones himself.

"Flank!" Maccus shouted, the closest thing to a commanding officer. They attempted to close in. The roving body of Hadras was in line but Scarlette knew he'd be the weak point. The other five men jeered at her. She pointed skyward and shouted her own order.

"Look! A pelican!"

They just stared at her. She shrugged.

"Well, it worked before."

"We're not dolts, missy," Clanker grumbled.

"I'll try to remember that," she laughed nervously. Gripping a rope behind her, she carefully twisted it around her wrist. She gave them no time to think about jumping her. She pushed backwards, gripping the rope. She pushed off the foremast and swung wide into the side rigging again, climbing higher.

They began to pursue her, but Jones arrived on the deck with the remainder of the crew. "What are you men doing there?"

"The Sparrow has flown to the rigging, sir," Maccus called, jumping from the ropes with ease. His face seemed a little lopsided with his left eye having migrated to the side of his hammerhead.

Jones looked up in time to see a small shadow swing across from the foremast to the main and climb until it pulled itself into the crow's nest.

"She's chosen her post, it seems," Jones sneered. "Sparrow!"

She peeked over the edge of the wooden platform. She noticed Jack was not with him and had only hoped that Jones had not killed him. "What do you want?"

"Come down and meet the crew."

"I've met them well enough," she snapped. "I have no intention of being terrorized."

"Scarlette Sparrow, you made a deal and you will come down here and serve in this crew."

"Make me," she smarted, knowing it was a stupid idea to bait Jones, but she didn't much care anymore.

"I can, you know," Jones called up to her. "The deal you made allows my word to compel you, should I choose to use such a means."

Scarlette froze at that. "Fine. I'll come down." Her going at her own will was much better than being forced down. It would probably be less painful as well.

She stepped out of the nest and slid down a rope, not using her hands to grip, but her thighs. She slid until she could swing to the lattice rigging and climb the rest of the way down. She stood, armed only with a dagger and pistol, neither of which would be much use against these monsters. She was so much smaller than all of them she almost felt childish. Jones was easily the tallest on aboard and she stood before him, no fear showing on her delicate face.

"Where's Jack?" she asked, wanting to know for sure what her husband's fate had been.

"You'll be seein' him soon enough," Jones answered. "He bargained for time, but not much, and there's no imaginable way he'll manage my terms."

She relaxed a little, knowing Jack was going to try for the chest now. She looked up and Jones was scrutinizing her with his beady eyes.

"What?" she asked angrily. "It's not polite to stare."

"You are an odd energy, Sparrow," he spoke, limping forward a step. She didn't move back but held her breath. "There is an anomalous cocktail of power mingled in your shields. What have you been doing since last we met?"

"Nothing," she answered. She wasn't going to answer his questions if she could help it.

"Wrong answer," Maccus crooned. She was seized by him and Clanker, who guffawed in her face. Jimmylegs snapped his whip and she froze. She really didn't want to be torn to pieces at the end of a leather rattail. She tried in vain to reach the emerald. Knowing it was snug against her chest, she thought hard of the world she had come from.

She vanished and appeared in an apartment, catching vaguely that Elizabeth and Robin had both jumped up at the sight of her. Scarlette was distracted however, because she could still hear Jones and the crew bellowing about her sudden disappearance.

Elizabeth's mouth was moving, but Scarlette couldn't hear her words.

"No!" Scarlette cried out, reaching for her friends. She was wrenched back to the deck of _the Dutchman_, the girls gone like smoke.

She found herself on her back, looking up at a dozen nightmarish figures. Scarlette scrambled to her feet and prepared herself in a grappling stance.

"Grab her," Jones commanded. The men closed in and she was able to knock a few of them away, but she was royally outnumbered. They seized her and held her once again by the arms. The two men holding her pressed down on her feet as well, to keep her from kicking.

"A burst of power from around your neck," Jones spoke, coming towards her. "What was that?" He pushed her collar aside and spotted the emerald. Grasping it in his hand, he snapped the chain from her neck. She spat at him.

"Now, now," he growled. "This is important to you, I see." He pocketed it. "You'll get it back when you settle into the crew. No more vanishing, however. The wards on this ship will keep you here, understand? Unless I order you away, you cannot leave."

"Understood," she answered, wrenching her body in a violent sort of way, trying to escape the men holding her. Jones smirked.

"Remove her coat," he commanded. They grabbed it to shred it and she pushed them away.

"Hold on," she snapped. "I can do that, and it won't get destroyed." She slipped her coat off and stood, corset over a white billowed shirt.

Catcalls of course crowded the deck and she stood there. Jones laughed in his donkey bray. "You'd better remove any other clothing you wish not to get destroyed, Miss."

"I really don't like where this is goin," Scarlette muttered, loosening the waist corset and stepping out of it. She slipped the white shirt over her head and stood in her black tank top, pants, and boots. She looked like any woman in her mid twenties from the 21st century, except for the scars that patterned her body.

The one below her left collarbone and the few on her throat were from surgeries in her original time. There was however a bite mark on her throat left over from a vampire attack, via Barbossa. There was one on her left arm, high up near her shoulder, bullet wound. The scars on her stomach just showed under the hem of the shirt. They were a nasty collection, a bullet wound as well, and two swords had impaled her. Her right arm sported a knife scar and an odd almost star like one where her arm had broken. High on both arms, there were sword cuts from Barbossa's taunts in the cave. She was well scarred indeed.

Someone whistled and Jones was more interested in the scars than her punishment for being a pain in the ass. "Lift the hem."

"In your dreams," she snapped. Maccus went to cuff her and she blocked him, flipping him on his back. No one else moved and Jones laughed as Maccus got up, enraged. He faced her, ready for a fight. She was facing him in a cat stance and goading him. "Brink it, shark boy. Fuck with me at your own peril."

"I don't want to see your wares, girl," Jones called out. "Maccus, stand down. I'm only interested in the scars."

She didn't relax until Maccus had ceased his own fighting stance and stood with the other men. She turned back to the captain and shrugged, lifting the hem a few inches. The scars on her abdomen were extensive. In addition to the two sword wounds, there was a bullet wound high on her stomach that exited through her back, remnants of the grand London escape.

"Turn around," he ordered. She did so without argue and he saw that her lower back was in quite the same state. The claw marks from Angel, of course, were gone, but her new powers had not healed scars already made. There were a few whip scars, leftovers from her encounter with _The Necromancer_.

"These wounds should have killed you," He spoke. She turned around and pulled her shirt down until it covered everything. "How did you survive?"

"Trade secret," she answered, thinking back to Jack.

"Fine," he growled, nodding to his men. They closed in again, grabbing her arms. She kicked her clothes out of the way before they got to her, having some idea of what was going to happen. "If you survived that, I feel no qualms about roughing the skin of your back."

"How many, Captain?" Jimmylegs asked excitedly.

"Five to begin with," he answered. "Then take her to the brig."

Scarlette clenched her teeth and braced herself. The rain she had called was still running hard and blurring her vision.

She heard the leather coming for her before she felt it bite. It collided with a thousand raindrops before sliced across her back and the sound was wet. Her knees bent but the men kept her on her feet. The second blow struck her higher and hurt less but the impact still made her move.

The third took her mid back, right along her spine and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. It had hurt more than anything she'd felt in a while. The next two blows were high up again and she could deal with them, but that third one still hurt the most.

The men let her go and Jimmylegs swung his whip a sixth time. She turned without thinking and let it wrap around her arm, gripping the leather and jerking it out of his hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" the bos'un asked her with a face like an anglerfish.

"He said 'five'," she snapped.

"He said 'five to begin with'," Jimmylegs answered her smugly. She snapped the whip and gave him a menacing look. Someone shot a blow to her back and her knees bent as she fought the urge to scream.

Maccus grabbed a handful of her hair and dragged her backwards. She skidded on the deck and her back felt as if it were on fire. She reached upwards and found his arm, pulling herself towards him. She used the momentum to kick with both feet at his kneecap. There was a loud snap sound and he screamed in pain, collapsing around his leg, holding it.

She flipped her hair back over her shoulder and picked up her clothing. The crew had moved in behind her but her eyes, snapping to them stopped their progress. Maccus' voice carried on the night as he cursed her existence, her mother, her creator, and her dog. She kicked him again none too gently but not in any particularly vulnerable spot. She doubted he still had kidneys.

Jones was not amused but he could understand why his crew was wary of her. He stepped toward her and she pointed the whip at him. "Don't push me, buddy."

"I am not going to hurt you, Sparrow," he answered, refusing to cease his advance. He took the whip from her hand and she allowed it. He tossed it back to his bos'un and motioned to the hatch.

"Like hell, you aren't," she answered. The men pulled open the hatch and Jones pointed.

"Walk or we'll make you walk."

She stepped carefully down to the ladder and slid down it, unable to raise her arms up very high due to the beating she'd just endured. She touched the deck below and moved out of the way, as the captain descended. They went down another level and Scarlette caught sight of Bootstrap and Will, both locked in the brig. She ran to them and was glad to see Will was conscious again.

Jones opened the door and shoved her in as gently as he could and still make his point. He shut the lattice door with a clang and a laugh.

"How long are you planning on keeping us down here?" she asked him before he reached the stairs.

He turned and sneered at her. "That depends entirely on how well behaved you are." He limped up the stairs, his peg leg making harsh sounds on the wood. Scarlette noticed oddly that there were little polyp and muscle type creatures growing on the underside of the stairs and the rafters.

She sat down cross-legged and placed her clothes in a corner. "Are you guys okay?"

"I'll live," Bootstrap grunted. "Where's Jack?"

"Somehow, he bargained for time," Scarlette answered, slipping off the black tank top. She still had her future undergarments and was wearing a pretty modest black bra. Will turned his eyes away but Bootstrap continued to speak to her. He'd been exposed to coarser women that took off everything.

Scarlette turned and asked them questions about her back. "How badly am I cut up? Do I need to worry about it?"

"There's one low on your back that probably needs stitches," Bootstrap answered. Will, at the mention of cuts, had turned to look at Scarlette's back as well. He hissed and moved forward, almost touching the raw bleeding whip marks.

"Why did they do this?" Will asked.

"Probably because they could," Bootstrap answered for her. She had picked up the black shirt and was looking about.

"How am I going to clean this?"

"You won't need to," Bootstrap answered. "We're hardly better off than those cursed ones now. We aren't going to become infected and die from our wounds so they can do whatever they want to us."

She dropped the shirt and sighed. "As for why they beat me … I was a big pain in the ass up there."

"They whipped the bloody hell out of me as well," Bootstrap admitted. "My back is still raw from it. Moving is difficult so every time they've come down here and asked questions, I've told them to go to hell so they won't think I'm 'behaving myself'."

"Because once they think you've lost your rebellious self, they'll press you into duties," Scarlette concluded. "Right?"

He nodded. He turned to William. "You'll be fine even if we go under. You can breathe as long as you're on this ship. The only thing you have to worry about is food and water. We don't need to eat but some still choose to do so, out of comfort I guess. That would probably explain why the man you sliced open dropped a bunch of fish out of his abdomen."

Scarlette blanched. "Boy, that sounds tasty." Her sarcasm was as thick as the seaweed growing from the corners.

Will sat dejectedly, looking pissed off and unable to express his anger. Scarlette sat in her bra, her dark hair hiding more than her tank top had and looked at him. "What's wrong Will? I mean, besides the fact that you're stuck on this ship and aren't supposed to be here?"

"Your husband betrayed me _again_," he seethed. "I woke before they brought me all the way down here and wasted no time in telling me that Jack Sparrow had traded my soul for his own."

"You can still get away," Bootstrap told him. "You haven't sworn any oath to this ship and you aren't trapped to Jones' orders."

"How do you know Jack's curse didn't just transfer?" Scarlette asked.

Bootstrap pulled out a small dagger and motioned her closer. He held out his arm and handed her the dagger. "Make a small cut. Not too deep, mind you."

"I don't want to cut you," she answered. He laughed at her.

"It won't hurt me too much. I'm just demonstrating something."

"Fine," she answered. "But don't blame me afterwards." She gripped his wrist and cut a thin line on his forearm.

He took the blade from her and handed it to Will. "Now you." Will made another cut next to hers.

"Now watch," Bootstrap told them. They both looked at his arm. Will's cut slowly vanished.

Scarlette blinked. "That's interesting." She sat in thought. "So, members of the crew … those wounds don't heal as fast. He's still what, mortal?"

"Something like that," Bootstrap answered. She looked thoughtful for a moment.

"If he were to cut over a wound that had been made by one of them … would it heal?"

Bootstrap shrugged. "Haven't tried that."

She pulled out her own short knife and cut her arm. She handed it to Will and he took it, more than a little annoyed. "I don't like being played with like the latest miracle cure," he answered, but he made the cut, directly over the first one. They waited but the cut did not heal right away.

"Well, guess that answers that question," she put her knife away. Will sighed angrily and sat against the railing. Water began to pour down from the hatch at an alarming rate.

All three of them clambered to their feet as seawater rose around them.

"Well, this is scary," Scarlette commented, putting a foot on her clothing so it wouldn't float away. "Are you sure we'll survive?"

"I've already been subjected to it," Bootstrap answered. "It's easier to ignore the fact that its water you're breathing in if you close your eyes."

The water was at their knees and rising fast. Scarlette got down on her knees and stuck her face in the rising water, to make sure, so maybe she'd have time to think of something of it didn't work. She forced herself to suck in a lungful of … water. Her body felt cold immediately as her lungs filled with the liquid. However, instead of choking, she shivered and her system took it in, finding the tiny oxygen bubbles. She took a few more breaths just to be sure and finally pulled upwards, finding that she had to stand all the way to clear the water level now.

Will had his face turned up, avoiding the water. Bootstrap was calm about it. Scarlette kept her foot on her clothes and kept her head above water, barely. "Will, it's all right. We can breathe underwater."

"You can," Will answered. "How do I know I'll be able to?"

"Try," she told him. He looked at her as if she was mad. "What? I tried it, didn't I?"

Will frowned and ducked his head under, doing as she'd said .He choked down the water and his body fought him as the water filled his lungs in an uncomfortable drowning sensation. However, after his system calmed and began to get used to the idea, he found he _could _breathe. When he straightened up, the water had filled the brig and all three of them were underwater.

"I don't know what you did to impress them," Bootstrap spoke, his voice slightly muffled under the water. "But they didn't whip you as hard or go under as quickly as they did with me."

"It's probably because I'm a girl," she answered glumly. Her hair was floating about her like a veil. She pulled her clothing back on, not too worried about staining her white shirt with all the water flowing around them. She looked like something out of myth, her dark hair floating around her.

Will had gripped part of the lattice cage and hung, still pissy. Scarlette looked at him and spoke, a little intolerant of him at the moment.

"Look, I understand that you're angry about Jack bein' an ass sometimes, but aren't you supposed to get the key anyways? How would you do that if you _weren't_ on _The Flying Dutchman_?"

Will didn't get a chance to retort because a surprised and weathered voice spoke softly in the darkness. "The key?"

They all looked over to where the voice had come from. The man fused to the wall of the ship had blinked his ancient eyes open and looked at them through the gloomy water. He pulled forward from the wall, his neck and upwards all that moved. He was so encrusted with coral, his skull had fused with it as well, sticking in ribbons to the wall so his brain showed. It pulsed in a manner that made it hard to look away.

"You're alive?" Bootstrap asked in wonder. He'd noticed the man but hadn't realized he still had a mind within his encrusted shell.

"I am … Wyvern," he seemed to need time to think of his name, as if it had been so long since he'd spoken it he'd nearly forgotten. "You spoke of _the key …_."

"Yes," Scarlette answered, lacing her fingers through the bars. "We need to find it. Do you know where on this ship it is supposed to be stowed?"

"_The key opens the chest_ …."

"Yes, we understand that much," Scarlette frowned. "But where _is _the key?"

"Stab the _heart _and the captain will be no more," Wyvern spoke. "The _key _is where the heart _used _to be."

Will made a face. "It's in his chest?"

"_The heart is in the chest _…."

"But where is the _key_? Is the key in the _captain's _chest?" Will asked somewhat frantically.

Wyvern closed his eyes and made a sort of gasp sound, reverting back to his silent state with a click.

The three prisoners were silent for a moment but Wyvern did not speak anymore.

"I wonder how long he's been here," Scarlette noted. "To have become one with the ship … how long before we start to … I don't know … change?"

"I didn't ask anyone," Bootstrap answered. "I have a feeling none of them would answer seriously."

…**.**

As difficult as it was, the three of them managed to sleep. Since they had begun breathing water, they didn't float, at least not well. Scarlette and Will sank easily, not having much buoyancy without air. Bootstrap had a little more trouble for some reason so he tied his … bootstraps to the bars and one of his hands as well.

Scarlette was wedged in a corner, her feet tucked under the bars almost as if she were going to do some situps. She dreamt of nothing, but somewhere in the blackness, a voice spoke to her.

"_Ryoko? Where are you? What's happened?"_

"Who are you?" she asked the darkness of her mind. "How do you know my name? And why do you care where I happen to be?" She figured it was a dream. "You're not from the future, are you?"

"_What? No. It's Angel_."

"The wolf." She didn't marvel at the mind to mind communication. "I'm dreaming."

"_That's interesting_," he answered. "_I'm asleep as well, but this isn't a dream. The bracelet I gave you serves as a link. I felt something really strange through it and after a few hours of grinding my teeth, I decided to try and find out what had happened. I take it you're not dead, since I'm talking to you_."

"I'm not so sure," she answered, remembering what had happened. "I'm somewhere underwater, in a brig with two men."

"_You're not about to drown?_"

"No. Davy Jones made his grand appearance and three swords weren't enough. Well, the only one that was really of any use at the time was _Kuroi-agohige._ We were too far from land for yours to do anything and mine, well, Jones took it back. It practically flew back to his hand."

"_Are you all right?_"

"Not exactly," she answered. "I'm bound to this ship for the next hundred years unless Jack can find the chest and destroy the heart of Davy Jones." She smirked in her sleep, realizing this bargain had saved her from the other. "Guess this means you'll have to find someone else. Sorry, babe."

"_Where is the heart?_"

"In a chest somewhere, hidden from the world."

"_You don't know where?_"

"No."

"_So I can't save you, eh?_" he sounded sadder about that than he had about her initial news.

"I'll be fine," she answered. "I can't get infections, even though my back is torn to shreds."

"_How did that happen?_"

"I shook things up and they whipped me for it."

"_When?_"

"A few hours ago."

"_It will be healed by morning,_" he reassured her. "_And we can't get infections anyway._" 'We', being shifters, of course. He sighed and she caught an image in the darkness of his burgundy hair. "_I wish there was something I could do_."

"Angel," she sighed. "I know you want to help me, but I don't think you can and you'll only cause yourself anguish trying to do the impossible. Maybe you would feel less of a need to help me if you found yourself a girlfriend or something."

"_Wolves mate for life._"

"Then find your mate."

"_I have._"

"Angel," Scarlette tried again. "I'm pretty much dead to you. My husband is still alive, I am dead, and you are left with a situation for which you were not prepared. Now you'd be much better off if you forgot about me instead of mourning my loss. Go find someone you can love."

She reached around in her mind for the connection, set on breaking it. Angel didn't fight her when she cut him out of her mind. Not long after she'd sunk back into the darkness, she heard voices and her body felt strangely heavy.

She woke to find the ship had breached and the water had drained out. Bootstrap untied himself and Will shook his head as he woke, sending water flying.

Davy Jones, along with Maccus, Koleniko, and Jimmylegs stood nearby, looking the three of them over. Scarlette remained seated and gave them a rather bored look. Will nervously looked at the ground and Bootstrap immediately started taunting them.

"Oh look," he chortled. "Fish face and company have come down for a visit."

"You'll remain down here until you show respect," Maccus hissed.

"Oh, I'm terrified," Bootstrap answered, faux shivering accompanying his heckling.

"You two, get up," Jones commanded to Will and Scarlette. They both complied without word. Scarlette standing up without pain surprised the men.

"Well, have you decided to take your places in the crew?" Davy Jones asked with a smile. It seemed he could be kind if he wished, or at least give the illusion of kindness.

"Yeah, we'll behave," Scarlette answered, stretching. "Or, I will, unless your goons overstep their bounds."

Her answer was apparently good enough for Jones, even if Maccus hissed in her direction. The comment had been made to him anyways.

"And you?" Jones asked of Will. Will didn't look the captain in the face. He didn't like the beady little eyes Jones used to bore holes into his soul.

"Aye," Will answered. "I won't be any trouble."

Bootstrap belched and didn't even wait for them to ask him. "Buzz off, bait shop."

Jones ignored him and twisted a brass key in the lock. Scarlette and Will's eyes went to the key for a moment but it was only single pronged. The door opened and Scarlette stepped out first, not bothering to walk wide around the crewmen. Maccus slapped her on her back in what would have been a sort of team like gesture if he hadn't meant to cause her pain. "Oh, sorry," he answered sarcastically, not noticing that she didn't flinch in agony.

"For what?" she asked, looking back.

"Didn't that hurt?" he asked.

"Not particularly," she answered, smirking. "In fact, if you moved to the left a bit and dug your knuckle in, you might dislodge the knot that's been stuck there for a while."

Maccus hissed and went to take a swing at her. She was about to block his arm and kick him where at least the human in him would hurt when Davy Jones instead caught his arm and tossed him back.

"Control your temper, Maccus," he growled. He turned his dark eyes to her in wonder but didn't speak.

He turned and walked up to the decks above, everyone following along. Scarlette allowed Maccus to go before her, so to not have him at her back. She'd rather not be stabbed, even if she would survive it.

…**.**

Work on _the Dutchman_ was like work on any other ship, only more so.

Scarlette had long stowed her coat, shirt, and waist corset elsewhere, back to wearing only the black tank top. She'd braided her hair to keep it out of the way and made sure her duties kept her and Will close to each other. They had discussed their plan the night before. They would somehow discern the location of the key, and when that happened, Will would escape on one of the dories stowed on the fore deck. Scarlette was positive she could perform a big enough diversion.

This morning, as they heard from the other crewmen, was strange. Usually the ship only breached to the surface at night, but perhaps Jones, having seen the sunset the day before, had thirsted for a dawn. It was common that the captain had strange desires. He had an old organ in his cabin, that is, a musical instrument, not an internal appendage. He would play sometimes when there was no lookout needed. He couldn't hear the men over his playing.

Currently, Will and Scarlette were scrubbing up the sand from the deck. The deck had been sanded the night before because Jones had anticipated that _the Pearl _was going to give battle and he hadn't wanted his men sliding about on the deck. A majority of the crew was on the floor, scrubbing away at the sand. Once all the sand was up, they'd re-caulk the deck, giving it a waterproof finish.

"This is ridiculous," Scarlette muttered. "This ship regularly goes underwater. It doesn't need to worry about sinking."

"Hell, I've been sayin' that fer twenty-five years," Clanker answered as he scrubbed beside her. "For all we know, it may be part of what allows it to submerge."

"You've been here for twenty-five years?" Will asked, leaning around Scarlette to get a look at who was talking.

"About that," he answered. "Palafico and I were on a ship called _The Periwinkle Prize_ when a storm hit. The ship went down and long after we had drowned, we found ourselves on this ship, in a line, with the captain walking to and fro, asking questions. He offered us a place here on this ship for one hundred years, to delay the time of judgment. Of the ten sailors that made it to this deck, only the two of us accepted."

"He didn't give you any time?" Scarlette asked, a little concerned. Clanker laughed and kept scrubbing, though the two newbies had stopped to listen.

"There are two sorts of bargains made on this ship. One is between the living, that's what you made. The other, is between the dead or the dying. Those of us picked up in storms are accepted right into the crew."

"Get back ta work!" Maccus shouted at Will and Scarlette. They ducked their heads and started scrubbing again, moving along as the deck became cleaner.

"Maccus, now," Clanker smiled but his face was so far gone, it was hardly recognizable. "He's been here maybe forty years. He lost a bet with Jones. He called upon the captain to borrow the sword, _Aoi-rozuka_, which he had heard about in some bar or other. He was scheduled to duel with some chap. Jones told him if he won the duel, he could keep the sword and his soul. If he lost, he'd serve in Jones' crew for his hundred years."

"How did he lose with that sword?" Scarlette asked, remembering not to stop scrubbing.

Clanker shook his head. "That blade is real particular about who it works for. Maccus didn't understand either, that for the sword to work to the full extent of its power, it must be relatively near water. He lost his duel and went home to Italy to hide inland but Jones caught him, obviously. Flooded the Tiber to get at him, too."

"How do you know all this?" Will asked. "If he has been here forty years and you, only twenty-five?"

"We all share stories," Clanker answered. "You are new but it'll only be a matter of time before you're accepted. You'll have a harder time, being a woman," he said to Scarlette. "Best survival tactic, rise in rank as soon as you can. The captain respects specialized skills and rewards them. Maccus is good at yelling at insubordinate crew members. He's first mate. Jimmylegs and Greenbeard are good at whipping people, so they're the bos'un and the bos'un's mate. I'm the gunner, naturally." His chain shot was hung on a hook on his belt.

"Well, you guys don't exactly need a cook or a surgeon," Scarlette remarked. "What other positions are there that we'd have a chance of procuring at such an early stage?"

"Second mate is Koleniko," Clanker continued, thinking. "Quartermaster is Palafico, a position held by Wyvern upon our arrival."

"How long has … Wyvern been here?" Will asked. Not being surprised that they had already met Wyvern, Clanker answered them.

"Wyvern, Manibar, and Ulysses are three of the oldest members. All three have taken a stationary sort of recluse. Manibar and Ulysses are both stuck in the bilge and have been here for almost one hundred years. They don't even talk anymore. Wyvern is only about on his eighty-seventh year and still wakes up once in a while. He was Quartermaster until about fifteen years ago when he tried to murder the captain. Jones thought it was mildly funny but still, he ordered that Wyvern be bound in irons for two years to teach him better etiquette."

"Two years?" Will asked. "Isn't that excessive?"

"Not particularly," Clanker answered. They had reached the railing and took up their brushes and caulking, a sticky oil substance. They made their way backwards in a line. "We can't die, we don't eat … anyways, after the first year, Wyvern had grown into the wall. The iron shackles are still somewhere in that mess that used to be a man."

They painted the deck with the oil stuff and a few hours later, they were finished with that particular task and had a greater understanding of the men in the crew. Scarlette wiped her hands on her pants and leaned against the railing with Will as they found a small slice of quiet and somewhat secluded rest.

"What do you think?" she asked him, careful not to speak too loudly.

"I can't even begin," Will answered in frustration. "We can't just ask about the key or he'll know something is going on."

"Yeah," Scarlette stamped her foot. Maccus looked over at the noise and noticed them leaning. He marched over and started yelling.

"What do you two clearfacers think you're doing resting out here?" he hissed at them, the slits of his shark nose flaring in the wind.

"Clearfacers?" Will asked in confusion.

"Jealous, Jaws?" she asked, meeting his prominent eyes. She raised an arm and caressed it with her other hand. "My skin is still skin, and yours is now fishy flesh."

"We'll see how long you stay that way, Sparrow," he grinned his serrated smile at her. "We're takin' bets on what you'll pick up first. Since you were alive when you had your debt, you won't grow seaweed or coral. You'll have some fish parts, just like us."

"Gee," she smiled sweetly. "As long as I don't end up like you, I should be fine."

He was practicing curbing his own temper but it didn't stop him from making quips. "Are you sure you don't want any hammerhead in you? I could help you out in that department if you did."

Will gasped and had been about to reprimand the lewd man, when Scarlette leapt at Maccus. She gave a quick uppercut to his almost nonexistent chin and another shot to his abdomen. Sweeping his feet out from under him, she backed up and fell into stance, ready for his attack, should it come.

"I don't want any of your kind of help," she spat. Maccus surged to his feet and lunged at her, nearly taking her down. She rolled out of the way and just barely managed to kick out in time, connected with his side.

There was a lot of shouting going on as Palafico and Jimmylegs pushed their way through the men who had acclimated. Palafico shouted at Maccus. "I did not give you permission to hold a duel!"

"She lashed out at me!" Maccus complained.

"He deserved it," Scarlette snapped.

"Did he hit you?" Palafico asked eagerly for some reason.

Scarlette thought about the fight. "No. He's not fast enough to hit me, anyways."

If only she had thought harder about what she _might've_ said instead.

"Seize her, boys," Jimmylegs crooned. Scarlette was grabbed again. She didn't even try to fight this time. Too many men had crowded around when she and Maccus had fought. There was no chance she'd be getting away.

"How many, Quartermaster?" Jimmylegs asked of Palafico.

"Ten," he answered. "For dueling without permission. Five more for smarting off to the first mate."

"Fifteen," Jimmylegs caressed his whip. "Delicious."

Jones appeared against the top deck's railing as the first lash rang out. He watched as Scarlette flinched through the first few lashes. Jimmylegs had found his mark then and the other blows were much harder. On the eighth, she shouted through clenched teeth and it only got worse from then on out.

Blood dripped on the deck and her knees bent without her permission. The last blow was extra devastating and she shouted aloud.

She was dropped to the ground, her shirt shredded in the back. She sat there for a while, huddling over her knees, parts of her spine and ribs showing through the deep gashes. Blood flowed freely down her sides. She wavered on the verge of passing out, but was afraid to, not knowing what would happen if she did.

She finally lost the battle with her consciousness, and slumped to the floor. Some of the men moved forward with eager noises.

"Stop there," Jones called out, intervening. He made his way down the stairs and limped up to the group. She looked so tiny, curled in a ball, bleeding on the deck. He looked about and his eyes fell on Will.

"You," he pointed. "Take her below and put her in a hammock. The rest of you, get back to work and don't leave your duties for other reasons or you'll be the next under the leather." The men dispersed and Jones went back to his post at the helm. Will knelt by Scarlette and tried to imagine a way of carrying her limp form without hurting her much more.

He finally slung her over his shoulder. She would get blood in her hair and her face, but it was better than pressing against her wounds and potentially injuring her further.

He found the area where the hammocks were hung and debated about whether she would be safe nearer to the door or farther away, were the others might not notice her right away. He decided the closer she was to escape, the better. He sat her in a hammock right next to the door, on her side. She pulled her knees up to her chest, as if in sleep, and laid there, a small little ball against the white fabric. Her blood had slowed, but not by much.

Will didn't want to leave her alone and thought back. Jones hadn't given him any express orders other than to bring her down here but Will figured that wouldn't be a good enough excuse if he were caught sitting beside her. He busied himself within the room, cleaning the floor until Koleniko came to fetch him to some other duty.

…**.**

The ship bowed under the water later in the day and mercifully gave the sun blistered backs a break from the bright daylight. The men rarely saw daylight, but something about their new chemistry made them especially susceptible to it.

Will was once again forced to breathe underwater. The feeling was so strange to him and uncomfortable. He was used to his insides feeling warm, not chilled with seawater.

At some point, Will came to a problem. He was hungry. The other men didn't need to eat, but he was still human, still alive, still … whatever they weren't. He looked about the ship as it drifted through the water and tried to think of something to eat that wouldn't be too disgusting.

He was too squeamish to eat the fish that flitted about and didn't think he could catch one anyway. There was plenty of seaweed gathered at the bow. Some of it was even new. He knew the Asian cultures used seaweed in food and figured of they ate it he wouldn't die from it.

It didn't taste very great, but one thing was sure. It wasn't lacking any salt. The idea of salt brought Will to another problem. He would need fresh water soon or he would dehydrate and pass out. He did not want to know what the men would do to him if he fell unconscious. Jones might intervene on the part of Scarlette, but Will, he wouldn't even blink. Will already understood that Davy Jones, probably due to his past, held women in a certain higher view than men, perhaps not including himself. He had refused to trade any number of souls for Scarlette.

Thinking of Scarlette was painful, Will decided. Her back wounds were fresh in his mind, but that was only a small part of it. He missed Elizabeth so much he could hardly swallow sometimes and as different as the two women were, he was reminded constantly that Elizabeth was not there. He was glad for the seawater around him simply because he knew if he felt the need, no one would know if he cried for Elizabeth.

Of course, he was very much glad that she wasn't with him on that ship. These men were too brutal, crude, and incomparably rough. Scarlette, he knew, was used to having to fight her way tooth and claw through most things. Elizabeth could adapt to violence, but she grew tired of it quickly.

Will joined a line of men and helped haul one of the larboard cannons back to its place on the starboard side. Bootstrap had been dragged up to do some work as well and they found themselves next to each other.

"Where's Scarlette?" Bootstrap asked, general concern in his weathered voice.

Will ducked his head and looked around. No one seemed to have responded to the question and so he surmised it must be all right for him to answer it. "She and the first mate got into a brawl earlier today. The Quartermaster and bos'un called her out for dueling without permission. She was whipped again, and it was bad this time. Last night, all she had were those five slashes, and they weren't that deep. This time they gave her fifteen, and bone showed through in most of them."

Bootstrap looked horrified at the thought and Will shivered. Bootstrap hadn't even seen it and he looked sick.

"Where is she now?"

"In a hammock below," Will answered. "She passed out and the men closed in, but Jones stopped them from whatever they'd had in mind. He told me to take her below. I tried staying close to her but they dragged me back out here."

"She'll probably be fine," Bootstrap grunted, wrapping a rope around a peg and executing a fancy self-holding knot. "She doesn't much have to worry about her body. It's her mind she must work to keep intact. We cannot be killed for one hundred years, but that doesn't mean we won't go insane."

"Is that their goal, then?" Will asked. "To drive you insane?"

"I don't know if it's in Jones' planner," Bootstrap answered. "But I'll bet anything some of these others have it in their agendas."

"Why would they want to do that?" Will asked. "Aren't they all just misfortunate sailors who ran afoul of Jones? Why should they want to hurt each other?"

"I think they're more interested in hurting Scarlette than each other," Bootstrap answered. "And anyone else not completely loyal to Jones. You see, I've been listening. It's amazing how much you can hear in the brig. At one point in time, every man here wanted to murder his captain. They would have given anything to be rid of this ship and its implications. However, one by one, they lost their iron will, lost their rebellion. They all gave in to their curse because they could not change it."

"What does that have to do with Scarlette?"

"Not just Scarlette," Bootstrap answered. "Anyone who challenges Jones and the authority on this ship. With every rebellious act, every show of strength, they are reminded of what they once were, and they feel shame at not being able to keep it up. Therefore, they try their best to quell any uprisings, to prove that they did what they had to, not that they lacked the courage and endurance to persevere."

"Shame," Will looked about and tried to imagine these men in any emotion besides anger and joy. "These men are ashamed?"

Bootstrap looked at his son. "When you have years to perfect your mask of emotions, acting any particular way is automatic. These men all look to be about your age, do they not? They are, most of them, older than I am. Maccus may be a fool, but the majority of them are weathered tremendously. Petty problems mean nothing to them anymore."

There were a few raucous shouts as a group of men gathered around a small table, close to the ground, probably stolen off a ship from Japan. A few of them held nondescript cups in their hands.

"They are not above petty games, however," Bootstrap narrowed his eyes. He and Will walked over as Koleniko and Hadras engaged in a game of Perudo.

"You challenged me," Hadras commented. "Your stakes."

Koleniko laughed and the air flowed out of the side of his face as well. "I'll give you ten years if I lose, but if I win, from then on when your head gets knocked off, I want you to allow us to play around with it. You know, keep-away and stuff."

Hadras thought this was somewhat funny, not realizing that they'd probably be 'keeping-away' from his body. "Fair enough." They began to play.

Will and Bootstrap watched, easily picking up the rules. Players took turns guessing how many of a particular die face value were showing, not only under their own cup, but under the other player's cup as well. As the bids went around, the numbers were expected to climb. One could not drop in value, either in the die face or the number of whatever was present.

Hadras eventually lost by calling six threes. He had three himself, and when Koleniko had called four threes, Hadras had laughed. A somewhat successful tactic was to always call one more of any particular value that you had in your 'hand'. Koleniko had been lying, of course, but instead of calling liar, which would have won Hadras the game, he tried to one up his opponent.

Koleniko called liar and pulled up Hadras' cup, showing the three threes, a five, and a one. He laughed and pointed, showing his dice. There were two threes, a two, and two sixes.

Will was mildly interested in the game and he asked Clanker, a crewman who had proved to be somewhat friendly, what the rules were for challenging.

"You can challenge anyone in the crew, and be challenged by anyone. You don't need the Quartermaster's permission, either. You just need to be on free time."

"Does that mean we can challenge people of rank as well?" Will asked. "Say, we could challenge Maccus and not get into trouble?"

"You can do better," Clanker answered. "The captain himself accepts challenges. He doesn't get them much because Jones never, ever loses. In fact, I can't remember even one story about him losing. No one wants anything bad enough to challenge him and lose."

"What happens if you lose?" Bootstrap asked suddenly, interested in the direction the conversation was going.

"Depends on the stakes of the game," Clanker answered, pointing as Palafico, Maccus, and Wheelback joined in a game. "Challenger decides on the stakes and the one being challenged can add to them or not. Sometimes, more than two players go at it. In games such as that, there is always one winner and one loser. The third man can count himself lucky that he fell between. He doesn't get any of the winnings, but he doesn't lose anything."

"Why is everyone afraid of Jones," Will asked. "If they do nothing more than petty games like trading years of service and allowing others to kick their body parts around, why should they fear him in such a game?"

"Because the captain rarely plays for fun. It is always for keeps with him," Clanker smiled. "The last person to play against the captain was Wyvern. He lost."

"What were the stakes?" Will asked before Bootstrap could form the question.

"Wyvern had said if he won, he wanted freedom," Clanker answered. Wheelback cried out in anguish as Palafico, the master of the game on board, called liar and won the game. "He offered twenty years in case he lost. Jones had played that way for a while with him, never losing. Wyvern just kept coming back for more. Finally, after he'd racked up to two hundred years, Jones upped the stakes. An eternity, he'd told him. It was only fair that if Wyvern were to be free by winning, that if he lost, he should be damned. Wyvern lost."

"So that's what happened," a voice spoke sleepily from behind them. They turned to find Scarlette, rubbing her eyes. The blood had dissipated and her hair was free again, flowing along her back in the water.

"Well, not exactly," Clanker continued. "Not long after he lost his soul for good, he attempted at murdering the captain."

"Which brings us to where he's at now." Scarlette looked down at the board with its dice. "Perudo."

"You know it?" Will asked.

"Vaguely," she answered. "I used to play elimination Perudo with a bunch of tuba players. Unfortunately, in that particular game, the thing that got eliminated was one's clothing."

"You lost?" Bootstrap asked.

"Hell, no," she laughed. "I won, but I had to watch as a bunch of fat guys strip down to their skivvies."

"How is your back?" Will asked.

She shrugged, a gesture that was probably painful. "I'll live."

"You girl!" Maccus cried out, pointing at her as if he'd just noticed her. "I challenge you!"

She gave a sidelong glance at Bootstrap. "Anything I should know?"

"Well, you can't deny challenge," he shrugged. "You've played before, I haven't."

"Fine," she stepped up to the board and sat on the deck, cross legged. Greenbeard handed her a cup and she held it in her palm, putting her other hand over the opening. Maccus sat and sneered at her.

"Stakes, shark-tooth," she spoke curtly. He hissed but answered her.

"If I lose, I'll give you ten years," he laughed. "And if I win, you stop being a prude and do what women are supposed to do."

"And what might that be?" she asked sweetly, batting her eyes.

He laughed suggestively and looked around at the men. "Well, for starters … there are a lot of men on this ship … help them relive a little … tension."

"Right," she growled sarcastically. "I'll add to those stakes, 'cause ten years is not a big enough risk for you, buddy. Not if my side of it is so bad. My stakes are if you lose, every time I get whipped, you get whipped as well. Acceptable?" She asked that of Jimmylegs, who had wandered over to watch. The bos'un nodded. He wasn't sure which of them he wanted to win, now.

"I'll take it, girly," he grinned savagely. They locked eyes, rolled their dice around, and smacked the cups down on the board together in a competitive way.

"Challenger first," she nearly purred, her voice going deep with anger.

He cackled and peeked at his dice. Her eyes never wavered from his face. Covering his dice back up, he smirked. "One two."

"Liar."

There was a collective gasp from around the deck. No one ever called liar on the first bid, especially not when someone only bid one of anything. Maccus looked stricken, as if in shock.

Or in horror.

Scarlette reached out to overturn his cup but he smacked her hand away, standing in a rage. He stormed off.

"Baby," Scarlette muttered.

"Lift the cup," Jones commanded from the stairs. He had heard Maccus challenge Scarlette and been watching the entire time.

Scarlette reached over without ceremony and lifted Maccus' cup. Everyone leaned in to see the dice. There were two fours, a six, a three, and a five. Scarlette lifted her own cup in case anyone was interested. She had a six, a five, a four, and two threes. There were no twos anywhere, nor were there any ones, which were generally considered wild.

"How did you do that?" Will asked. "You didn't even look at your own hand." She shrugged.

"I just knew he was lying," she answered. "I should have looked at mine first, I admit. That was stupid."

"Why did you add your particular flavor to his wager?" someone asked. She laughed out loud.

"That's easy," she answered. "He's the one always picking fights. I figure if his skin is at risk as well, he'll leave me alone. If I had said he had to be 'nice' to me, or something like that, the word could be interpreted any way if someone is imaginative enough. This way, he'll at least think twice."

"While were on the subject," Jimmylegs allowed his voice to slither about like something alive. He looked straight at Scarlette and pointed to emphasize his meaning. "Why are _you _out and about?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking as innocent as she could, which was actually pretty damn guiltless, what with her tiny little body and her big green eyes.

"Don't play, miss," he bantered. "I whipped you maybe six hours ago and cleaved your flesh from your bones in most places. It's what I do best. No one I have laid my attentions on in such a manner has ever risen the same day. The last man to get up the _next _day is now grown into the ship below."

"Wyvern?" Scarlette asked. "Damn, he's starting to sound like a real badass."

"Why are you up?" Jimmylegs was persistent.

Scarlette shrugged. "I woke up. There was no one below, so I came to see what was going on rather than be found lying about and maybe get whipped again for showing lazy tendencies."

Jimmylegs snarled. "What I am saying, Miss, is that _no one_ has been _awake at all_ the same day of their beating."

Scarlette smiled and raised a finger. "Statistics say that women have nine times the pain threshold that men do, which means, theoretically, I can withstand nine times the pain."

Jones decided Scarlette would outmaneuver his men if he didn't step in. He was curious as well to why she was awake and moving about, even if no one else besides Jimmylegs was. He remembered Maccus slapping her back this morning with no effect. "Stand up, lass."

She stood and backed away from the board, hands on her hips.

"Turn around," he commanded.

"I'm going to get so tired of this shit," she muttered under her breath, turning to face Will. His face was concerned and she didn't try to reassure him with her eyes as Jones talked to Palafico.

"Move her hair aside."

Scarlette flipped her hair over her shoulder before the other could come close enough to touch her. It flowed in the water and stayed away from her back.

There weren't any gasps. The shirt was pretty torn up in the back, but it was so dark under water that the shading was probably too hard to see through.

"Lift the shirt," Jones commanded, as she knew he would. She felt silly lifting it, almost as if she were flashing Will in front of her. She instead just pulled it over her head and stood in her bra. Everything she cared about was covered and nothing was going to fall out, even if she jumped around.

There were gasps now, but not at her lack of clothing. Her back, from her shoulders down to where the old battle scars began was clean. There weren't any scabs, no blood, no evidence whatsoever to mark the fifteen lashes she'd taken that morning.

Bootstrap, beside her, hadn't seen the fright that had been there that morning but he was amazed as well. Will walked forward until he could see, hoping it wasn't worse than what he'd seen earlier. He stepped back when her unmarred flesh came into view and actually passed a hand over the flawless skin to see if his eyes were fooling him.

"How did you do this?" Davy Jones asked her as she slipped the shirt back on.

"Would you believe me if I told you I wasn't sure?" she answered, turning to face him.

He merely eyed her with slight contempt. "Back to work, all of you. Mrs. Sparrow, follow me."

The men dispersed, the Perudo board and cups vanishing to wherever they had come via the hands of whoever was nearest. Jones limped back up to the top deck. Scarlette carefully made her way up the narrow stairs and got her first good look at the ship as a whole. Jones had a good view of everything on the surface of his ship from up here.

He stood at the wheel, steering the ship around various undersea mountains and things that only he could see very well in the darkness. Scarlette waited for him to speak, feeling dwarfed next to the tall person.

"I can sense odd powers around you, Sparrow," he told her. "Yet I cannot sense _what_ they are. There is something of the land, something connected with the earth, though I cannot tell any more than that. Were you a witch or an Indian?"

"No, well, my mother was Iroquois," Scarlette answered, shrugged, thinking that he was probably sensing the wolf energy, or perhaps the slight stain that _Tekagi-fukku_ may have left on her for the brief times she carried it.

"Another force, just as strong as that one … it seems to be bright and painful but at the same time, dark and foreboding, tied with death and fire. I do not understand it."

"You and me both," she answered, thinking through it. Fire definitely sounded like _Kuroi-agohige_, which she'd had even less time than the earth sword, but the death was undoubtedly the necromancy. Come to think of it, she'd gained Barbossa's powers when she'd killed him … and he _had_ been equipped with an anti-conflagration spell. Death and fire. She gave a smirk, thinking it was probably good that she'd used a water-based weapon on him, if he wouldn't burn.

"And the final mix I can … feel emanating off your small stature," he turned towards her now and gave a suspicious glance. "You seem to be of the sea, more than any of these other men who have been on this ship longer than you have been alive. You move about better in the water than they do and you've only been here one day. You say you are human? You must be human, else I would not have any claim to your soul, but I think you have much else in addition to that."

"Well, that sword of yours changes people," she pointed out. "I was all but possessed by it when I fought Barbossa. I don't even remember all of the fight and I destroyed an island by accident."

"Yes, these blades are meant for immortal beings, so their power overwhelms those not so equipped," he agreed. "However, the stain it leaves behind is nothing compared to what you show. Your friend does not have a fraction of power showing on him for the sword."

"He didn't use it," she answered. "So naturally the stain would be greater on me."

"He used the earth one more than you did, did he not?" asked Jones. "And yet your powers show that you are of the land as well. The only thing that shows he is of land is his reluctance to get his face wet."

Scarlette laughed but decided she'd had enough of the captain's company. "Look, I don't know what happened. I don't know why I have recuperative powers. I assumed upon getting up that all the crew healed as fast. The wounds from yesterday healed as well."

"None of them but I can heal as quickly as that," he answered. "Wounds made by the crew or myself heal normally, but wounds made by a mortal with a mortal weapon will heal within minutes or hours depending on the severity."

Scarlette turned to leave but halted at Jones' rather irritated tone. "I did not dismiss you."

"Sorry," she answered, not sorry at all. She turned back to face him but didn't go any closer.

"There is something about you that is not normal," he spoke. "I intend to find out exactly what it is."

"Great," she answered a little warily. "When you find out, let me know. May I go?"

He waved her off and she hurried down the steps, hoping he wouldn't look too closely. She didn't want to be any nearer to Jones than she was.

…**.**

It's my birthday! Weee! Chapter completed on 5-9-07 3:12 am. Page count coming up to …. 549. Whoop, whoop. I'm going to go finish my rum now, cheers.


	22. Chapter XXI: Conspiracies of Parties

Well, that was exciting. I got a big old thing of rum for my birthday, yee! I have the distinct premonition I will be near the sea tomorrow. I was trying to sleep, but I just had so many interesting ideas … the end of this story, or really, the exciting part before the end, is going to be chaotic as all hell.

And so, off we go. I don't know where Mungojerry has been. Probably got chased off by those damn wolves. He didn't like that part. He thinks Angel should have been the feline and Edward the canine. Nope.

**Chapter XXI –Conspiracy of Parties and Gods **

The Lyandize and Tyrnise fighting was reaching quite a peak. Storms wracked the Caribbean and every part involved felt the sea's anger. No one knew quite why the sea was angry, but it seemed that the wide ocean had chosen to be a harsh taskmistress.

Beckett and his marines had been sailing for a while, tracking down every lead only to find nothing helpful. Beckett had given William Turner up for dead. The storms had not made it any easier. He had narrowed his search down to a few islands, however, based on trade routes and other reports he'd been collecting for years. He was pouring over a map, dotted with neat red Xs, when he was called to attend something on the surface.

…**.**

Likewise, on _The Empress,_ Sao Feng had been looking over charts, knowing full well that the particular answer he was seeking was in his miles of paper. He had also drawn his conclusion to a few select islands, but not based on trade routes or missing person files. Sao Feng was reading the storms, and knew not all of them were due to unrest in the merfolk societies.

He changed his heading and began to sail back towards the Caribbean, knowing that another opportunity might rise if he were swift and unafraid.

…**.**

Besides the Lord of Singapore and the head disciplinary of the 'Honorable' East India Trading Company, two more parties were scouring over maps, attempting at pinpointing an exact location, or approximate within a few miles. One party's motivation for their research was due to camaraderie and companionship. The other had a very different set of reasons that bordered on revenge and power.

However, soon all four parties mentioned were either on their way or planning their departure for a specific area of land and sea, each to their own agenda and alliances.

And _The Black Pearl_ sailed toward redemption and triumph, or doom and despair.

…**.**

It had been two weeks since Will, Scarlette, and Bootstrap had been dragged onto _The Flying Dutchman._ Scarlette had been whipped eight times since her first day, Bootstrap three times, and Will had mercifully managed to remained unscathed. They had all wondered quietly amongst themselves why _the Dutchman_ hadn't tried to take _the Pearl _yet. None of them could come up with a valid reason.

Scarlette was up and about as usual. Her recuperative powers were proving to exhaust even the crew. Maccus had been 'bed ridden' for many days of the two weeks, due to the stakes of his loss. Of course, he hadn't started any of the fights with Scarlette.

Three out of the eight times, Scarlette had been caught not working. These times were always when the ship was on the surface, and always when it was raining.

What she _had_ been doing, was collecting rainwater for Will, who still needed the fresh water to live. She knew that she would suffer less than he for the beating, and a soft part of her that she'd long tried to cut out hurt at the thought of Will, a person she considered to be a friend, even if her husband deserted him, being scarred up like that. She wasn't sure he would survive the beatings Jimmylegs was accustomed to dealing out.

She didn't doubt that Will was tough, but he was human … something she wasn't even sure about concerning herself anymore.

The three of them worked on cleaning out the guns that morning. Jones had announced that he was going to prowl the storms for new blood and sometimes, the call for firepower was needed. As they worked, below the surface, mind you, Will laughed suddenly.

"What's so funny, boy?" Bootstrap asked, not in the best of moods. His beatings had been deliberately unfair. He'd left off the 'sir' a few times in one conversation and had gotten five for that. He and Will had managed to get confused when someone shouted for 'Mr. Turner' to do something and the punishment had fallen on Bootstrap, another five. His latest whipping however had been ten, and that was for not keeping his weapons clean enough or ready for use. There had been a weapons check by Clanker and neither Bootstrap nor Scarlette's pistols, which had been returned to them, had fired.

Of course, they hadn't thought that once they surfaced they should go load their guns and make them ready for use, but this was a firm rule. One must always be ready for combat.

Will had begun to explain why he had laughed. "I was just remembering how I wished there was some sort of music besides Jones' organ playing." The organ had been blaring for hours that day and being under water made the sound carry even more. "It made me think of that song Pintel and the others sang when we were going to New York."

Scarlette smiled. "See, I knew you'd laugh about it someday." She tilted her head to the side slightly and smirked. "Music other than the organ? I can try, but I don't know if my lungs are any match for that machine he's got in there."

She immediately began singing powerfully in a language few on the ship understood. She continued to work, but had been long at the skill of multitasking where music was involved. She was not distracted. Everyone else was.

She'd begun in the same key that the organ was playing and had picked a melody that played off what was already there. It fit into the existing music and seemed to belong. No matter how old she had been, music had always been something she understood.

It surprised everyone when the organ cut out. It left her voice unsupported on a long note. She stopped when it ended, suddenly self-conscious.

"Well, that was a surprise," one of the men commented.

The door of the cabin burst open and Jones appeared, looking flustered. "What's amiss here?"

Everyone was pretty confused. Nothing seemed to be wrong. Everyone was behaving. There were no idle bodies anywhere.

"Don't give me those looks," he growled. "I heard somethin' over the music. Only a sound loud enough, close enough to the door could alert me over that."

Scarlette ignored him and continued to work on her cannon, reaching her entire arm into the throat of it to clear out the barnacles and weeds that had grown inside.

"The lady was singin'," someone piped up, and Scarlette wanted to hurt him. She figured her voice must have slipped out of tune minutely for Jones to have heard it over the organ. Perhaps she had just underestimated the power of sound over water.

Jones looked at her. "You can sing?"

She finally had to pay attention. Anyone who ignored a direct question from the captain was likely to get whipped, and she didn't think she or Maccus could handle much more. He hadn't been seen for two days. She was actually starting to feel a little badly for him.

"Yes, sir," she answered, not wanting to elaborate.

"And I heard it over the organ," he seemed to say to himself. "Why would that be?"

"I may have been slightly out of tune," she answered blandly, knowing most of the men wouldn't understand even that much of the conversation. She sometimes felt as if she had to translate when she spoke about music.

"I heard no dissonance," he answered, and she blinked. "I merely knew that there was something else going on, other than what I was playing. It seemed similar, almost as if it were a countermelody I was imagining." He snarled, but it seemed to be a positive sound. He motioned with his claw. "This is most curious. Come with me, lass."

Scarlette did not much want to go, knowing that there would probably be some rule she hadn't thought of and she was about to be punished again. She followed him through the door rarely used by anyone but him.

There was a small hallway leading into the back of the ship and she stepped through it into a large space. She assumed it was the great cabin, for there couldn't be any other room bigger than this one on the ship. There was a large ancient looking organ along the far wall and both sides of the room were shrouded in cloth, hiding their contents. Scarlette was not curious enough about what they hid to ask or to peek behind the curtains.

Jones sat at his organ, and when he leaned forward, Scarlette heard a jingling sound. It sounded awfully like an iron key clanging against something … she'd heard it enough when Jack found his rum store 'magically' empty.

"What was that?" she asked cautiously. His face gave her nothing, so she elaborated. "It was a … jingling sound. Like metal on metal."

"Heh, that," he answered. "Is not important. Not to you, or to anyone but those with knowledge."

It made her laugh inside. Happy was the individual that findeth wisdom. She was sure that the key had made the noise, which meant it was on his person somewhere.

"How would one get this knowledge?" she asked.

"It's too late for you to acquire what you seek," he turned to the keys of the organ and played, his beard joining in with his right hand. "Match these notes." He played slowly but effortlessly, changing pitches and giving her plenty of time to follow. He sped it up gradually and was thoroughly pleased with the results.

"Now stand over there and try shouting over the music." She went and stood near the door, obliging once the music resumed.

He stopped and stood, walking towards her, smiling with a rather suspicious looking grin.

"What?" she backed a few steps towards the door, not liking tall squid-faced men walking towards her with such purpose, and it wasn't something that happened often. She opened the door and ducked outside. He followed and pointed upwards as if he'd know she would move.

"Your new post is up there," he told her, indicating the crows nest. "We'll be runnin' above water tonight and there will be storms. You will be the eyes of this ship above water, understand?"

"Aye," she answered, a little puzzled. "Why?" She flinched. "If it's not too much of a bother to answer why, that is."

"None of them can be heard above the organ," he answered, sweeping his hand across the ship in a blanket gesture. "Their voices either blend in too well, being of a deeper timbre, or they speak in such a way that the sound is lost. You, however, seem to have come with some training the rest of them lack. Anything you say will not only be heard over the tenor of the organ … it will resonate because you will speak in tune. I do not play when we are above for fear of their voices being lost when I am needed."

"Okay," Scarlette nodded. She was glad of it, actually. It meant when they were above, she would be off the deck and away from the incessant berating of the bos'un, the first mate, when he was present, and the others. She could also collect water for Will and not get whipped to the bone for it. "What must I do?"

"Climb the mast as we rise," he answered. "Call out if you spy land or a ship. Reefs do not hurt us. We pass on through, as if we were not material." He handed her a spyglass. "Storms as well are to be called. This spyglass is enchanted to show a daylight visual no matter what time it is. If you see something suspicious, but it is too dark to know fully, look through this, and it should show you in better light."

Scarlette took the instrument and tucked it into her belt. "Should I tell the bos'un?"

Jones called out to Jimmylegs and dismissed Scarlette. She wandered back to her friends who had moved a few cannons down and were cleaning the last of the port side guns on this deck.

"What happened?" Will asked in a concerned way. Scarlette laughed.

"Not much, but it's going to be a lot easier to get you fresh water from now on."

…**.**

The call to head to the surface was given and Scarlette left Will and Bootstrap. They watched her go and wondered just what was going on.

"She's an odd one, that," Bootstrap pointed out. "It seems that no matter who she's against or who Jack makes an enemy of, she manages to befriend them."

"Befriend them?" Will asked in shock. "You don't think she's … befriended these monsters, do you?"

"I know not, but look," Bootstrap pointed. Scarlette was scaling the rigging and going up higher, climbing up the mast until she plopped over into the crow's nest. "She's been appointed an actual task. We have not, and we're men."

"I agree that our gender might have some effect on the crew," Will replied. "But Jones does hold women in a higher standing, it seems." He frowned. "I still don't understand what you meant by befriending."

Bootstrap held up his hand. "Norrington. We'll use him first. When they returned to Port Royal after picking me up ten years ago, she treated him like a person, not some toady to the king. After that, he suddenly helps throw off the navy's search for Jack, sailing clear over to Calcutta." He holds up one finger.

"Belle Watling and Barton James, the vampires," Bootstrap continued. "They switched to our side." He held up three fingers now. "And mostly because Scarlette knew enough lore about them."

"Morgan Maxwell and his crew," he continued, putting his hands down because he'd run out of fingers already. "They kidnapped her, right? They also had your wife, if you remember."

"She didn't befriend Morgan," Will pointed out, thinking he'd caught his father. "She killed him, remember? Indirectly, but it was _her _plan that did him in."

"And who does he follow around now, not with thoughts of revenge, but of servitude?" Bootstrap countered. "They were acting more like friends than enemies when we saw them. The only real danger was the addition of Barbossa, an enemy she's never befriended."

"He was too dangerous," Will answered. "There were times she tried tricking him, but she never offered anything more than death to him."

"Continuing on, Angel, the werewolf," Bootstrap spoke.

"That wasn't really her fault," Will answered, bending his knees. The ship had begun its ascent and the water flew by in a crushing force. "He wanted her, I'm sure, in the same way Jack has wanted her for a long while. She couldn't return hostility to emotions like that. It's not who she is."

"No, but I heard he attacked her, cut her up pretty badly," Bootstrap countered again. "And she still was his friend? I don't understand that one."

Will shrugged. "I don't think anyone fully understands what happened in New York. Not even Scarlette."

"Sao Feng," Bootstrap spoke up. Will thought he was mentioning the Asian captain's intuitive capabilities, but realized he had continued to count. "She and that bloody dangerous bastard seemed to be friends from the very beginning. Even before they met, he was itching to meet her. When they met, they didn't even fight. Sao Feng and Jack Sparrow are far from friends."

"And now she's here," Will concluded.

"Aye," Bootstrap answered. "And Jones loaned her the sword upon their first meeting." They both looked up.

Scarlette knelt in the crow's nest, pushing against the water force as she clung to the mast. The ship broke the surface and she stood, her hair and clothing flapping wildly in the storm winds whipping about with murderous speed. Lightning flashed and illuminated her face. She was reminded of the storm scene in the Disneyland ride. Normally, sailors did not ride a storm in the crow's nest. It was too dangerous.

"I wonder how Beckett would fare against her charms," Will stared up at her. "If she could befriend so many of our enemies, or at least get them to believe she was relatively harmless … could she curb the Company as well?"

"We'll probably never get the chance to find out," Bootstrap answered.

Will shook his head. "A shame, really. If she's that good, then a mere mortal like him would be easy, you'd think."

"It's not going to happen," Bootstrap shook his head. "She's sworn to this ship. Tricking Beckett into her pocket is a great idea, but when would one ever have the opportunity?"

As the entire ship broke the surface and began its tumultuous search for wrecks, Scarlette heard the chilling sound of the organ and unable to ignore it, she paired her voice with it.

The song was in a meter of three, and truly sounded sad. She wondered what it could have been about originally. She stamped out her question. Jones held them captive, all of them. She had no sympathy for his lost heart. In fact, she would kill him, given the chance.

She looked out at the expanse of angry sea and before long, she spotted something. She opened the scope and looked out at it, amazed at the change. It was a ship, all right, and it was floundering. It looked to be taking on water.

She called out to the deck, shouting loudly. "Ship, floundering, just off the port bow."

She straightened back up, wondering what she was doing. She set a large canister against the mast and tied it there to collect water for Will. When she was finished, she looked out at the ship she had just doomed. Were they not men? Why was she calling their souls for Jones?

Of course, there was no chance any of them would make it to land alive anyways. What difference did it make if they died tonight or one hundred years from now? Thinking that had made her feel a little better, but not much.

_The Dutchman_ did not take long in fighting its way up to the ship. The crew bled across and Scarlette, wanting to see what was going on, went over as well, through she didn't bleed over. She swung from the mast to the other ship and landed on the deck.

The crew had already seized those on deck. The ship was halfway underwater and most of the crew had flocked to the highest point, knowing they were doomed.

Jones was there too. He saw her and sneered. "You've never done this before." He shoved her towards a frightened sailor. "Grab one of them and stand in line."

Scarlette grabbed the man in question and his terrified eyes found her face. He screamed and her heart gave a wrenching sigh. She knew this man.

"McMutton," she whispered. She looked around and sure enough, they were on _The Necromancer_. No other ship was constructed with death drenched wood and bone.

She stood her place and miserably waited until the captain was ready. _Her_ captain, she realized with another lurch. She was part of _The Flying Dutchman's_ crew and there was no escaping for the men she had condemned.

In fact, a few of them were looking at her. Mullins waved shortly to her and was cuffed by Maccus. Starks gave her a grim nod. Cob tried reaching out to her.

Someone surfaced from the water flooding the ship. It was Sheikh Abu. "They are all dead!" He exclaimed. "All my lovelies, drowned!" Jones motioned and Sheikh Abu was seized, dragged to the line. He caught a glimpse of Scarlette and spoke out. "Ah, the Sbarrow has returned to kill us." His 'p' sounded like a 'b', as usual.

Jones turned around, a most curious expression on his face. "You know these men, Sparrow?"

She didn't know how to answer to save them, so she spoke the truth. "Aye."

"How?" The question was equally full of venom and sugar. She knew that somehow, this was a trap.

"They kidnapped me and used me as ransom to get Jack to uncover the _Langue de Serpente_. After the spells were broken, their captain was killed, and I was taken somewhere by … part of the spell. All the ships left me there, not knowing if I was dead or alive. After making the bargain with you, I freed them from the hold of Barbossa and allowed them to sail off."

"I was under the impression that you had gone to free Jack Sparrow?" Jones commented.

"He was also aboard this ship," she answered. "It had been taken over by Barbossa and his zombies."

"Ah," Jones grinned. "How many men are here?" The question was not meant for Scarlette. Maccus answered.

"Twelve men still alive, sir," he hissed.

Jones grinned still, his smile getting wider and scarier by the second. "Interesting."

"What shall we do with them?" Jimmylegs cackled, rubbing the face of a frightened Klow.

Hadras laughed loudly and Bert jumped in his grasp.

"Let us deal a little bit of justice," Jones answered. "There are no survivors on this ship."

The men laughed and each raised their arms, axes, swords, knives, and other deadly weapons held in their grasp. Scarlette jumped away from the line and shouted. "No!"

They all paused and glanced at her. Jones' called out. "We are killing them to avenge you, girl. Would you make light of such a gift?"

"They didn't do anything they weren't told to do," she answered. "None of these men harmed me once given the choice. I ask for no revenge. I do not want their deaths. The ones responsible have already paid with their lives."

Jones fixed his eye on her. He called out to his men, still looking at her. "These men were too weak to rebel against what they did not believe in and they shall be punished for it. Kill them."

Scarlette knew she'd been trapped. No matter what she said, there was some loop he could slip through. She turned around and shouted loudly. "No! Stop!" A little more than a third of the men froze, their weapons not touching the pirates. The other men all met their mark, killing quickly the men Scarlette had known.

Those who had stopped, Palafico, Clanker, Wheelback, Jimmylegs and Greenbeard, all looked at her with strange eyes. Mullins, Jericho, Sheikh Abu, Bert, Noodler and of course McMutton, who she had left in the line, sighed with relief.

Jones looked at the men incredulously. "Why have you five stopped?"

Scarlette realized something. All five of the men who had ceased their killing blow and turned their eyes to her had plants and things growing on them. The majority of their seafaring oddities were not animals. Looking back to Clanker's stories, the men who grew only vegetation and dead things had made their bargains dead. These men were not alive. Scarlette had powers over the dead.

Jones reached a hand out in their direction. "Kill these men."

Scarlette clenched her teeth, feeling the compulsion. "No. Do not kill them." She pushed her power forward, filling the men with it.

"What the devil is going on here?" Maccus hissed, wiping off his tomahawk and stepping forward.

Jones stopped trying to compel the men to obey and looked at Scarlette. "You are doing this. How?"

She didn't answer and Jones smiled.

"If you will not let them kill these men, then you will do it yourself."

She looked at him in confusion and he laughed, flinging his own power of compulsion at her. She threw up her arms but nothing could protect her from the curse she herself had brought upon herself. She screamed as she felt herself pull out her dagger. She closed her eyes but could not block out the feeling of her actions.

She opened them at last, her arms covered in blood. She looked into McMutton's frightened face as she slit his throat wide open and let him die at her feet. She screamed again in anguish and fury, dropping the knife to the deck and slipping herself. Her knees hit the deck with a crack and the water that had been slowly filling the ship covered her to the waist.

She sat there, the blood mingling with the water around her. The crew stood by silently and she sat, broken and bloody. Something from below came swimming up behind her, rolling in the scent of blood. It was a small tiger shark, enjoying the taste of the men who it would probably get to eat for real in a few moments. She sat in the water, the shark next to her, and didn't flinch. The shark brushed her several times but neither showed any fear of the other. She finally put a hand on the little carnivore's back and pushed it away. It came back, persistent, and nuzzled her hand out of its way, basking in the blood once more.

"I hope I haven't broken your wings so soon, Sparrow," Jones growled. "Back to the ship. Maccus, take her back."

Everyone bled on over to _the Dutchman_ and Maccus approached the silent Scarlette. Her hand hovered on the shark beside her and it didn't much seem to mind.

He lifted her by the shoulders and was surprised when she didn't attack him or shout. She just stood on the listing deck, water up to her knees, and swayed, looking down at the shark.

"Come on, girl," he pulled her up towards the only dry point on the deck. "I'd say your initiation is over." He held onto her arm and bled over, taking her with him.

…**.**

Robin, Elizabeth, Kristin, Claudia, and Chelsea all gripped their gate keys and making sure they knew where they were going, they closed their eyes and thought of _the Pearl_.

They landed on the deck, still standing in the circle they'd been in before going back. They opened their eyes and were momentarily blinded by the brilliant sunlight.

Elizabeth ran about immediately, asking about Will, who she knew had been looking for _the Pearl _last thing she knew. She could only hope he'd found Jack. If she had only known what had happened, she may have wished Will _hadn't _found Jack. The situation, concerning that particular happening, was almost exactly like the movie.

She cornered Gibbs and interrogated him, finally getting him to answer her questions. Yes, Will had found _the Pearl_; no, he wasn't on the ship. Where was he? "Oh, well … we were attacked by Davy Jones and Will sort of … got nabbed."

Elizabeth immediately turned to look at Jack up on the top deck at the helm. Without another word to Gibbs, she marched up the stairs with no illusions as to what had happened. The girls had watched that film several times and Elizabeth stifled her angry shouted every time she watched Will aboard that horrible ship.

"Elizabeth," he commented. "Interesting ensemble, that." She was wearing lavender capris and a white tank top, her feet in white slip-on shoes with little bows on them.

Without warning, the woman jumped at Jack, clawing at his face with her manicured nails. Elizabeth had taken well to some of the future things. Now, she was attempting to hurt Jack in the only way she knew how. Unfortunately, she didn't know much. He'd been grappling with Scarlette for over ten years. Elizabeth was no match for him.

He was surprised, but not hurt, save for a scratch under his eye that stung and probably even bled. He secured her wrists and looked her in the eye, hating the fact that she was probably the same height as him.

"Are you feeling all right," he asked. "Usually, only Scarlette will attack me seemingly without provocation."

To his horror, Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears and she slumped to the floor. He let her wrists go and she pulled her knees up to her forehead, hiding her face. She spoke through her tears at him.

"Why did you sell Will to that monster, Jack? How could you do that?"

"Oh," Jack understood now. "Well, we're on our way to remedy that particular … mistake of mine." He hadn't denied his part in Will's capture, which surprised Elizabeth. She looked up at him.

"You're looking for the chest?"

"How do you know about the chest?" he asked. Her future makeup wasn't running a bit, even with her tears wet on her cheeks.

"I suppose we should explain," she wiped her face and stood up. She called out to the other future girls, who had found Lizzy and begun their own questions. They came up the stairs and all started talking at once. Jack cut them off.

"We can talk in my cabin," he led the way down the stairs. "Gibbs, helm, if you please." He entered the cabin, the string of women following him inside. If the men had been in a happier situation, they might have made some lewd comment.

Once inside, Jack sat at the table and peeled an orange taken from the New York harbor. "Well, I'll tell you what's happened first, and then you can tell me why you all seem to know what's going on here."

"Where's Ryoko?" Robin answered. Lizzy looked at the floor and Jack carefully thought about the lovely orange he'd just sliced open.

"Well, while you were in jail, we went looking for the mates to that water sword Scarlette used on Barbossa because we'd been told that with the other two; we'd be able to fight Jones. We found both of them, not without consequence, mind you. We traveled to the only person who could 'see' things concerning Jones and she told us to find the chest and key as well."

"Tia Dalma," Claudia added hopefully. Jack glared at her and answered affirmatively.

"Yes, Tia Dalma. She's Unorna and Libussa's sister and she has more power than the both of them, combined. When we got back to the place where we'd left _the Pearl_, we found that most of the men had run inland when _the Dutchman_ popped out of the water offshore."

"So that's why there's hardly any of the crew left," Robin spoke. "I assume they were eaten by the cannibals?"

Jack frowned at her perception. "Probably. While we were at Tia Dalma's, getting information, Jones sent his crew to land and grabbed Bootstrap. This was a day early and we feared that we were next. Will insisted that we try to rescue the deserters from the cannibals so we ended up inland as well. That plan fell through and soon we were fleeing the natives. We managed to escape and by the time we got out in the water, the other ship had vanished."

He licked the orange absently and blinked, not liking the next part of his story. "Later that night, the Black Spot appeared on our hands and _the Dutchman_ breached next to us. They boarded and took Will and Scarlette." He smacked the table and growled. "He gave me three days to collect one hundred souls to trade for mine; said Will was part of that." He kept out the fact that he'd pretty much pointed the other man out for Jones.

"Why didn't Scarlette try to bargain with him?" Chelsea asked.

"Yeah," Claudia added. "Ryo would not just go, not in a million years."

"I tried," Jack shook his head. "They didn't even give her a chance. She was seized and taken over before any negotiations were made. I asked Jones how many souls I'd have to get to pay for her as well and he told me that he would trade no number of souls for the soul of a woman."

Elizabeth was quiet now. She felt a little embarrassed for attacking him when he was in the same situation as she was … sort of. She looked up with a sudden urgency on her face.

"How many days has it been?" she asked.

"This all happened three weeks ago," Jack answered. He raised his hand, showing the black mark on his palm. "The Black Spot has returned, but Jones hasn't come to call, and neither has his pet, thankfully. We're on the way to get that bloody chest."

"You don't seem … frantic," Kristin noted. "Aren't you afraid?"

"And it doesn't look like you tried to get any other men," Chelsea added.

Jack wiped sticky orange juice off his hand. "I must get that chest. Nothing else matters as far as I'm concerned. What's the use of saving my own skin if it won't help Scarlette? Right now, she's probably suffering, and all because I never told her in the first place that I had a debt with that bastard."

"Didn't she make the deal to get a ship to save you from Barbossa?" Lizzy piped up. "That could have been avoided as well if we had not left her on that island … if we had gone back to see if she was there."

"What about the swords?" Claudia asked. "Do you still have them?"

"There are two left," Jack answered. "The water one originally belonged to Jones. He had leant it to Scarlette and the minute he boarded, he made some motion with his hand and it returned to him." Jack sat back in his chair. He hadn't actually eaten any of the orange. "I've told you enough. It's your turn."

There were some excited glances and the girls dove into their summarization of _Pirates of the Caribbean; Dead Man's Chest_.

When they were finished, Jack was a little stunned and more than a little confused. Scarlette had explained that the 'movies' she had seen were stories but with moving pictures. It was like watching a play but it seemed more real. She'd told him about the first movie and also explained that the others, including herself, were not a part of that original story.

"Of course you aren't," he had answered. "All that stuff happened before we met."

Now, he was confused, because according to the girls, all this would have happened a year after the first film ended. Translation; it would have been congruent with the arrival of the future people.

"Does this mean that … that is what would have happened had we never met?" he asked them a little absently.

"Possibly," Kristin answered. "We have no way of knowing."

Jack thought about that possibility. It meant that Scarlette not only had fulfilled the prophecy by producing an heir, but had also extended his life expectancy by ten, almost eleven years. As horrible as Jones had been, for some reason he had allowed Jack the extra years while he wasn't in possession of the ship.

"So …" Jack was still thinking about what they had told him. "In the end of this story … Beckett gets the heart of Davy Jones via Norrington, I get eaten by the kraken, via Elizabeth, and everyone else ends up aligning themselves with Barbossa?"

"To bring you back," Elizabeth answered in an apologetic way. She had begged and begged the others to leave out the tension that had been between herself and the dark captain before them in the film. It didn't much exist in this timeline, but she was still embarrassed about it. So they hadn't mentioned it. Claudia had a tendency to snigger when the story touched parts that had some of it in it, but other than that, nothing was spoken.

"Well," Jack said as cheerfully as he could manage. "Norrington is dead and Barbossa can count to twenty-four if he used his fingers, toes, and separate pieces. Beckett will have to get the heart himself and he'll be easier to deal with on his own. Elizabeth, I don't know how you managed to chain me to the mast of my own ship, but don't do that here and we won't have that problem." Claudia snorted and had to excuse herself. Elizabeth blushed but luckily, Jack hadn't caught on.

"We just have to find the chest and hope Will has the key," Lizzy said hopefully. "How are you planning on getting the key from Will, anyway? He's on that ship and we can't reach him."

"Will has a penchant for finding ways of escape," Jack answered. He looked over at Elizabeth. "He's doing all this to clear your pretty little name, you realize? He'd do anything to save you, and I believe he'll succeed … because, let's be honest. When has dear William failed?"

There was a call from outside and Jack stood abruptly. He opened the door and looked outside. He called to the men, asking for a report.

"Land off the starboard bow!" Marty in the crow's nest called out. Jack snapped open his compass and looked at the face. The needle was pointing slightly to the right, perfectly in line with the island they were approaching. Jack ducked back inside and looked through his extensive charts, finally finding one that showed the chains and islands of the area they were sailing.

"Isla Cruces," he spoke. "An old mission headquarters. There used to be a group of nuns and monks on the island, attempting to convert the natives but they were wiped out by a plague."

"Hell, we could have told you the name," Claudia spoke. "But we didn't know about all that other stuff."

"Plague?" Chelsea squeaked nervously. "Is it dangerous?"

"I doubt it," Jack answered. "It's been over a century since the island was populated. Most people are superstitious about it, that's all. I've heard it said that there are a rather odd number of empty open graves. Some think they're for newcomers. Honestly, I think they just had so many deaths, they dug graves for everyone because they knew if they didn't, some of them would never be buried."

"Here's hoping we won't be burying anyone," Robin piped up.

There was a loud screech from outside and the occupants of the cabin exchanged glances, everyone spurring to move all at once. There was sort of a fight to get through the door but once everyone was free of it, they clambered to the railing to get a glimpse of what was making all the noise.

A giant tentacle whipped about in the water, chasing what looked like a flock of mermaids. The kraken was hungry and Jack looked at his palm, his heart racing painfully.

"Head for the island!" he shouted. "Run out the sweeps and the guns! Get us there before that monster attacks!"

The crew ran in a flurry of movement and the girls joined the dance, working together to pull out the topside cannons on the portside, watching the giant squid with large eyes.

It took maybe half an hour to run aground on the island, whose beaches were nothing more than white sand that probably disappeared when the tide came in. The crew was exhausted when they finally reached it, however. They had all been at their stations, wondering if at any second the kraken was going to attack the ship.

They fell on the white sand, wading through the knee-deep water towards the island. The entirety of the crew then flopped down on the sand just short of vegetation and thanked whatever deity they believed in that the kraken hadn't eaten them. They could still see it, flopping about in the water, letting its large tentacles slice through the air once in a while. Claudia threw a rock out into the water and started shouting about overfed calamari.

Jack had immediately consulted his compass and started walking in a northward direction. The girls and a few members of the crew followed on his heels. He snapped the compass shut and headed into the trees.

There were tall, bent palm trees everywhere, and once again, the killer coconuts of this region tried to knock everyone out. They hadn't walked long when they came face to face with another party of people. Claudia said a dirty word and stopped walking. Jack noticed her distress and looked up from him compass, immediately curling his lip in disgust.

"Fancy meeting you here, Jack Sparrow," a sickeningly cultured voice spoke. Lord Cutler Beckett stood in front of a passel of EITC marines, their uniforms so close to the Navy soldiers it was hard to distinguish them normally. A few were wearing the newer uniforms, the red and blue as opposed to the gold and navy, but a majority looked like normal local recruits.

"_Captain _Jack Sparrow," Jack insisted, glad he'd decided to bring along the fire sword. "Now, you'll have to excuse us, gentlemen. We're looking for something."

"As am I looking for something," Beckett answered, not flattered at being all but ignored. "I must insist that you hand over that lovely compass of yours."

"Back off, asshole," Claudia snapped. "You're not getting anything."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Jack answered, smiling at the hardly offended Beckett.

Beckett smirked back at him, hardly out of wits. "I notice Scarlette is not among your number. What would you do to insure her freedom?" He was attempting to bluff Jack but lacked the information to do so effectively.

Jack grinned. "I'd do just what I'm doing now, or would be doing if you were not standing in my way."

Beckett put up a hand and the marines behind him all pulled out their swords. He smirked and looked at Jack's forces.

"A passel of women and only a handful of men," Beckett smiled. "You're outnumbered again, Sparrow."

Jack frowned. There wasn't a chance in hell he was going to give up the compass, not when they were so close to the chest.

"We will fight with them," a familiar voice called out. Dacor the Lyandize and his men stepped up, armed to the teeth in bone weaponry. He nodded to Jack and the others growled at the East India people.

"I'd quit while you're ahead," Jack told the other side. "These men are immortal, truly."

Beckett bowed sarcastically, never taking his eyes off the pirates. He smiled arrogantly and spoke, letting them know just how lowly he thought they were. "I shall relent for now, Jack Sparrow, but know this. We will be close at all times. When you dig up the chest, we will be there to take it from you."

"Over my dead body," Jack growled.

"So you wish for an early grave," Beckett answered, waving his men off. "I will do my best to accommodate you." They disappeared through the trees, walking towards the other side of the island. When they had gone, Jack turned to the merfolk that had arrived.

"Thanks for throwin' in with us," Jack spoke to Dacor. He held his hand out to the taller man but Dacor turned his back on Jack and denied any favor.

"We did not do it to help you, Jack Sparrow," he answered. "We also seek the chest. We must kill that monster so he no longer has any power over us, or the kraken. Once free, it will go back to its natural diet and sink far below to the depths from which it came."

"What power over you does Jones have?" Jack asked. Dacor snorted.

"I should think you would remember," he answered haughtily. "The Tyrnise and Lyandize are very much the same as the sirens, only we do not sing. Jones commands all of us. He is known as Poseidon or Neptune among many sailors who do not share your language. We have been trying for many years to break free of him. We must destroy the heart to stop this mad war between the clans for he is using our storm making to claim more sailors."

"We can't let you destroy him just yet," Jack answered. "I must get him to free Scarlette before—"

"And Will," Elizabeth piped up.

"Yes, Scarlette and Will," Jack continued. "Before—"

"Don't forget ol' Bootstrap Bill," Pintel added.

Jack sighed. "Yes. Bootstrap as well. We must get Jones to free them before we kill him. For all we know, if we kill him, we condemn them to the sea forever."

"We must end this war," Dacor insisted.

"Would you chance Scarlette's death?" Lizzy called out. "I am Tyrnise, and I work with them. Would you condemn her, someone who freed you from a curse, to end this war?"

"This war began because of our alliance with her," Sanel, the only woman yelled in an accusatory tone. "We do not care what becomes of that wench." She was pushed backwards by Raare, who spoke after her.

"We would rather Scarlette not be hurt, but she is mortal and must die sometime," he crossed his arms. "We would end this war before all else. We must destroy the heart."

"We can't let you do that," another voice called out. Yet another party of people arrived, this time from the west. Everyone looked over at the tall man that led this party. His long chestnut auburn hair rang no bells for no one present had seen him.

"Who are you?" Dacor and Jack asked simultaneously.

He smirked. "I am Angel, the wolf, and I bring all the power of the animal kingdom. Even immortals would have to be stupid to ask for this much pain. You can't kill Davy Jones."

"We will," Dacor insisted. Angel looked over at Jack.

"Where is my sword?" he asked of the pirate. Jack frowned and gave the wolf a suspicious look.

"Why are _you _here?"

"Just tell me where the sword is," Angel answered impatiently. "I'm agreeing with you, aren't I?"

"It's still on the ship," Jack told him. "But I don't think I should let you near it."

Angel shrugged and made a gesture with his right hand. The green sword appeared in his hand and he sheathed it along his waist, tall enough that it didn't drag.

"How do you know we were done with that?" Jack asked.

"Even if you aren't," Angel spoke growlingly low. "Someone capable of it is going to need to wield it."

"We're still not going to leave until you lead us to that chest," Alfor announced, putting his thin hands on his hips. Both Jack and Angel brought out their weapons and brandished them in the direction of the Lyandize. The merfolk backed up as the earth shook and the air grew warm. They decided perhaps that they'd be better off watching from afar. They vanished through the woods with threats.

Jack didn't put away the sword, even though Angel did. He eyed the wolf he'd only heard about and with a voice full of suspicion, he asked his questions.

"And why would you help me?"

Angel laughed. "We've come for the chest as well," he answered. The others laughed and growled and brayed. The cacophony of sounds was frightening, even though they were all in human form. "We're going to free Ryoko, but we aren't working with you. We know that you're wanted as well. We'll free her, but after that, you're on your own. We don't help mere humans."

"Right," Jack sneered, glad his sword was already out. "Free Scarlette and let me get taken so you'll have her all to yourself, is that it?"

"Pretty much," Angel answered, entirely too pleased with himself.

"Wolf, go back to your den, and take your men with you," a powerful accented voice called out. Once again, everyone looked to a new party. Sao Feng and his small army of men had arrived and all of their weapons were drawn.

Angel let forth a noise that no human throat could replicate and most of the people around flinched at the sound. The projection of teeth and claws was very vivid. Angel did not argue, however. He turned and the other shifters followed him. Soon, Sao Feng and Jack were left facing each other once again.

"Well, isn't this exciting," Jack asked blandly, knowing that something fishy was going on. "And what will you be having, then?"

"I am here to make sure Beckett does not get a hold of that chest," he answered. "And if at all possible, I am going to use it on _him_ instead."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Why is everyone suddenly after this chest?"

"Well, if you succeed," Sao Feng answered. "There won't be a chest left. Each of them have their own wish to fulfill. We saw the ships. Beckett is on the north side of the island, _the Pearl _is to the south, and some ship I've never seen before is to the west. We are on the eastern side. This island holds the key and we are all here to find it."

"So, whose side are _you _on, mate?" Jack asked of Sao Feng. "Everyone else we've met so far has a different agenda than us and will not allow for our plans. Are you here to hinder us as well?"

"I will not hurt your plans, Jack Sparrow," Sao Feng answered, stroking his long moustache. "But know this. I will not allow you to hinder mine. Once Scarlette and the others are free, I want the heart."

"Did everyone know about the heart except for us?" Pintel asked out of context. He was ignored.

"What will you do with it?" Jack asked him. "If the kraken is about and after us, we cannot destroy it until Jones has called it off."

"We will send him after Beckett," Sao Feng answered. "Beckett wants to dominate the seas for trading purposes. He will eliminate all the other trading companies and give England a monopoly over the sea. Not only that, he will mange to take out all of the pirates in the waters the Company controls. If the other nations no longer trade, then he will take over all routes, and thus clean all routes of pirates."

"That's why you're so concerned," Elizabeth spoke, slightly angry. She stepped forward, kicking up sand as she did so. "You would risk my William to secure trade routes? I will not have it!"

"You've misunderstood, milady," he gave a short bow to her. "I would have my wish after your friends are freed."

Elizabeth looked unconvinced but she stepped back to the others without too much anxiety showing.

"I suggest you start looking for your chest, Jack Sparrow," Sao Feng told him. "It will not be long before Davy Jones feels our presence."

"How did you all show up here at the same time?" Jack asked him. Sao Feng had turned to leave but he laughed over his shoulder.

"I listened to the wind. All the storm patterns pointed in this direction. Not only that, but a majority of disappearances happened around this area. It's fairly safe to assume that Jones haunts the place where his heart is hidden, at least when he is not called away." Sao Feng headed back into the trees.

Jack looked at his compass and noticed that the needle pointed northeast. Wherever the chest was, it fell between Sao Feng, the Lyandize, and Beckett. That left the shifters and Jones on an indeterminable location. The shifters were swift enough that Jack wouldn't be able to hide anything from them and he knew he couldn't fight them. Jones and his crew, when they did show up, would be equally hard to counter.

"All right," Jack spoke. "Back to the ship. I have an idea, but I'd rather not talk about it here. There's no telling who might be listening."

…**.**

Scarlette sat in her new command, hating herself for everything. She had killed six men that she had known and blamed herself every bit for it. She knew as well that there was no getting away from this ship. If Jones could compel her to murder six men, then there was no leaving. He would keep her there until her time was up.

She was feeling rather desperate and scared. She wasn't sure how long she'd been on that ship, but she knew more than three days had passed. Yet, Jones had not risen to take Jack down as well. Why not?

"_He's waiting for you to give up_," a voice just to her left answered. She jumped and fell to the bottom of the crow's nest. She hadn't heard anyone come up. When she looked up, she was even more confused. The person leaning there was no one she had ever seen, for she would have remembered him if she had.

"Who are you?" she asked. He had pale skin that nearly glowed in the dark. His hair was an equally white color, but not as if it had faded with age. His eyes were some color. She could not tell in the dark specifically what they were, but knew that no human had eyes like that.

He looked genuinely unconcerned. "I have had many names. The Greeks called me Hades, the Romans Pluto, your own people have called me Death for years, Thanatos, Shinigami … pick any you like."

"Okay … but why are you here?" she asked, ready to believe anything at this point.

He looked at her and she could not meet his eyes. They burned into her and the feeling was so uncomfortable, she had to look at the wood.

"There are those of us that think Davy Jones is getting a little out of hand."

"Those of you," she asked. "What are you, gods?"

"You might call us that," he answered. "There are those who know us as gods. But that is beside the point. I am here to charge you with a quest. You will have help as well along the way, and it is not only your quest, but your particular power is connected with the gift I have to give."

"And what is that?" she asked, most curious. She reached out and touched his arm through the dark fabric of his cloak. He laughed at her hesitation and she quickly looked at the deck to see if anyone had noticed.

"They can't hear me," he assured her. "Anyway, I have things to do, people to escort to some other place, and such, you know how it is."

"You aren't kidding, then," she asked, still skeptical.

"Nope," he grinned, showing off white teeth. "You and others are being asked to get rid of the 'man' that calls himself Davy Jones. We've been reviewing this situation and think that you and these specific others are best equipped to handle the problem. There will be seven of you against him, but you will have the blessing of … us 'gods'."

Scarlette shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. This was the strangest thing. "Well, I don't think I stand a chance, even with six other people, at killing Jones."

"With this, you do," he answered, handing her a scythe he pulled out of nowhere. She took the bleached bone handle from him and before her eyes, it changed into a sword, fitting to her hand perfectly. The blade shone with a dark light.

"This is another one of those swords," she exclaimed. "What is it called?"

He smirked. "_Shizuka-shini_." She looked up at him but he had vanished. The sword was also gone and she had almost thought she'd dreamt him and the sword when she heard a voice on the wind. "_You need only to call the sword and it will come to your hand_."

She looked at her hand in wonder and spoke the English name. "Silent death." She was being commissioned by … gods? Why would they want to kill Jones? And who were these other six people who were supposed to be there as well to kill the dreaded captain? These were all questions she would soon have answered.

…**.**

Will was asleep when he was visited by a 'god'. He had been dreaming of a small furry creature that seemed to be able to talk when his vision went completely white. He was left blinking in the blinding light, searching for the source of such brilliance. Finally, a voice called out to him and Will followed the voice until the light dimmed and he could see a figure.

"What … what is this?" Will asked, looking around. There was only white, all around.

"You are in the realm of light, or at least the reception area, a woman's voice told him. A very blonde, tall, and incredibly pale creature strode out of the whiteness. She smiled at him and reached her hands out to take his.

"I am Iris, or have been for a while," she lifted his hands and a shock of multicolored waves rushed through his mind, painting everything in fabulous rainbows for a split second. "I was sent by the lords of light to bring you something to help you in your quest."

"My quest?" Will asked, still dazzled by everything. "What quest? I must find the key, I know."

She laughed, showing dimples in her childish face. "Your quest, we have decided, is to aid others in the destruction of Davy Jones. He is getting too powerful for anyone's good and we are taking steps to quell him. One of those steps is you. You showed promise with the blade of earth, but we have one here that is more suitable to your own strengths."

"Who are the lords of light?" Will asked, trying to look at her face but losing. His eyes kept sliding away from her.

"You may know them as Ameterasu and Apollo," she answered. "But our names vary depending on who is being asked. They sent me to give you this." She gripped Will's right hand and something appeared there. She let him go and he held a blade that shone so brightly it was more like a lightsaber than a sword.

"There you are," she giggled. "_Shiroi-amari_. You will find others with your same agenda, do not worry."

"Wait," Will spoke, noticing that the light around them had begun to dim. "Can you tell me where the key is?"

"Under his beard, in the chest cavity, silly," she called out. "Just wait until he's asleep. It should be easy enough." And with that, the vision ended. Will woke up with a start. Scarlette, who had been leaning against him, slid a little until she snapped awake.

"I just had the strangest dream," Will shook his head.

"I doubt it was as weird as the conversation I had about an hour ago in the nest," Scarlette answered. They looked at each other in question and both thought the same thing.

There were a few false starts where they ended up asking questions at the same time. Scarlette finally just shook her head and held her hand up. The black sword appeared. Will's eyes widened and he mimicked her, the sword of light coming to existence in his hand.

"I thought there were only three of these things left," Will gasped.

"Well, they told us the others were no longer on this plain," she answered, making the dark blade vanish. Will followed suit and their little corner of the hammock area was dark again. They had not been able to get their own hammocks and the three of them had just been cramming into the corner, using each other for comfort. "I guess there's five now."

"I know where the key is," Will told her in an excited whisper. "We can go get it right now!"

She shook her head. "I can try to help, but Jones can control me with compulsion. I'll ready a boat for you, but I can't do much more."

"Will you be all right here?"

"Yeah," she answered. "But I'll warn you … Jones is going to know someone helped you escape. Do me a favor … if you see the emerald in there, take it with you. If this plan works, I'll get it from you later."

"I will," he answered. They stood carefully and quietly exited the room, cautious not to wake any of the snoozing crew.

They ended up on the deck. Only Greenbeard was above and awake, and he yawned sleepily. Scarlette waved Will on and went to the man at the helm.

"Stand here," she commanded, pricking her finger and sprinkling a bit of blood on him. "Don't move, and don't look at anyone or anything but the mast. And forget this all happened when I tell you to." Greenbeard was a little surprised at her tone but faded into the zombie stupor he and the others had taken on when she'd ordered them to stop killing. The blood would make the spell even stronger. Once he was entranced, Scarlette busied herself, lowering a boat for Will. Her newfound strength came in handy and soon she had it down on the surface.

Will was not having as easy a time of it as she, however.

…**.**

He had tiptoed into the great cabin, carefully extending his feet, toe first to make no sound. Jones had a heightened sense of hearing and Will did not know how alert he was in his sleep. The great captain was slumped over his organ, much as he had been in the movie. Will noticed the emerald sitting on the shelf between organ levels. He reached out and pocketed the necklace, scooping the chain into his hand.

Jones snored, tentacles shivering with his breath. Will could not see any way of getting the key away from him. The man was bent over the keyboard of the organ and the only way to get to his chest cavity was to go through his beard.

Will sighed and looked about for implements to use on Jones, both should he wake and to take care of his beard. Will knew he couldn't cut the beard. Jones would feel it. Will found several knives that were easily slipped between the keys of the organ. It was a fairly simple task as well to coax individual tentacles to wind around the handles, making more and more room for Will to search for the key.

He pushed the remaining tentacles aside and glimpse the key. He almost threw up, however. Jones' chest was hallowed indeed. Will could see his lungs undulating as the captain snored and blood seemed to ooze along the walls in slow awkward drips. The key hung from one last tentacle inside the chest, dangling about where the heart would have been, had Jones a heart to see.

Will looked about, stranded as he was and found himself holding a pen in his mouth, keeping the tentacles aside. He reached and with a small note, he coaxed the tentacle away from the key. It curled around the note and Will caught the key on the end of his pinky finger.

He gently let all the tentacles fall back to their places and wasted no time in leaving.

Scarlette was waiting outside at the railing where she'd lowered the boat. As Will reached her, she handed him a compass.

"Go west from here," she told him. "There is an island there I heard Jones mention rather laughingly the other day. He said something about hiding about close to the source, which means, I think, that Jack and the chest are there."

"West it is," Will smirked. "He's going to be awfully angry when he reads the note I left him. He'll go straight to wherever he thinks Jack will be."

"That will work to our advantage," Scarlette answered. "We have to assume that the magic holding these men at their current ages will fade when Jones is no more. If Bootstrap and I have not changed much, we must still be close enough to land to _get_ there without drowning."

"Right," Will nodded. "I will make sure they understand that. I must go now, however."

They clasped hands and Will climbed down to the boat. Scarlette leaned over and called to him.

"Thank you," she said, and waved. She turned back around just as the sun piqued over the horizon, rushing in a flood of color over the water. The sky went from cerulean blue to pink and yellow in seconds, shot through with splashes of purple from the lingering clouds.

She woke Greenbeard from his stupor and he looked at the sunset with surprise. "That's odd … wasn't it just dark a second ago?"

"I don't know," Scarlette answered. "I just woke up."

She watched the sunset progress for maybe an hour, sweeping her gaze over the deck every few minutes to make sure all was in order. She knew that when Jones woke up, she was likely to get blamed for the key's disappearance. She only hoped that the damage would be reparable.

She knew the exact moment when Davy Jones awoke. There was a roar that filled the ship with dread and the organ gave a mournful but rage filled chord. Men piled out of the ship, filling the deck. She quickly went down the stairs to mingle, hoping against hope that she would not be pegged.

The captain's door was flung open hard enough for the aged wood to crack and a near rabid Davy Jones stepped out. He shouted and spit as he talked.

"Take account for all men, Maccus," he sputtered, his words slurring together with his Scottish dialect. "Someone is missing."

There were whispers among the crew as Maccus shouted for them all to stand in a line. Scarlette ended up between Clanker and Hadras. Maccus looked about and reported to the captain.

"The only one unaccounted for is that boy," he told his captain.

"Who was on duty?" Jones asked in a threatening voice.

"Greenbeard," Jimmylegs called out. "Did you see anything?"

"Nay, not I, sir," Greenbeard answered. "It was all dark, however the sunset did happen rather spontaneously."

Scarlette did not speak and did her best to look unobtrusive. No one was looking at her yet.

"How did you know someone was missing?" someone asked. Jones blinked his eyes and it was the first time Scarlette noticed that he had a separate set of eyelids that closed over the eyes underneath the others.

"I found a note where my key was supposed to be. The little bastard made off with it."

There were collective gasps at the mention of the theft of the key. "What did the note say?" Maccus asked.

Jones growled and his anger washed over the crew like boiling water. He pulled the note from his pocket and unfolded it, showing it around. There were five words on the paper, and three of them weren't really words.

_Your move._

_Captain Jack Sparrow_

Scarlette bit her lip to keep from laughing. Will had cleverly shown Jones exactly where to go. Jack would probably have said something along those lines as well, which made it even better. The crew was spouting angrily and Bootstrap had maneuvered his way to her side.

They looked at each other and fought not to smile, not to laugh and give themselves away. Jones called for silence and the crew shut their mouths, looking up at him expectantly.

"The key was not the only thing missing from my cabin," he announced, his rage not so painful anymore. He looked down at Scarlette, noting that her neck was bare.

"The emerald I confiscated from you also went missing," he growled. "Which leads me to believe you had something to do with his escape, Mrs. Sparrow."

"Search me," she told him. "I have hidden no emerald."

"You speak the truth," he answered. "I can taste it, but there is something about you. You helped him escape."

"You can't prove it," she answered tartly.

"Greenbeard," Jones called out to his boatswain's mate. "Did you see Sparrow on the deck?"

"I saw her at dawn, sir, but not before," he answered.

"What were you doing up at dawn?" Maccus hissed.

"I will not answer your questions," she snapped at him. "If the captain wants to know, let _him _ask."

"Maccus is first mate," Jones pointed out angrily. "You will answer his questions."

"Is it a crime to wake at dawn?" she asked. "I could have simply been there. You have no way of knowing if I helped him or not."

Jones growled. "Your shift ends before dawn, Sparrow. There was no reason for you to be up on deck."

She said nothing, tilting her chin upwards in defiance. She hadn't expected him to believe her anyway.

Jones roared. "Brig. Both her and Bootstrap. I have reason to believe that either of them could have helped that brat escape. Maccus, get us to Isla Cruces as fast as you can manage. We must get there before that thieven' charlatan arrives or we'll have more to worry about than rebellious crewmembers."

Bootstrap and Scarlette were seized and roughly dragged down the stairs. They were thrown into a cell with such force that the bars rattled. The cage was shut and the key turned with a definite sounding creak.

When the others had left, Bootstrap turned to her.

"You helped him escape, didn't you?"

"Hell, yes," she smirked. "I used my necromancy to sort of bespell the watchman. Will stole the key and I had a boat ready for him. He'll reach the island before we do. He had an hour and a half head start and it's very close. We'll have to follow the wind patterns. All he has to do is head west."

Bootstrap smiled. "Wonderful. Well, I'm starting to think we're going to get out of here alive."

"That is the general goal," she answered. The sat down and waited for news.

…**.**

Whoopwhoop! Onward.


	23. Chapter XXII: Blades of Chaos

I love Monkey Island. Yep. Twelve days until _At World's End_ is out. Will I have this thing done? Twelve days? Can I do it?

Mungojerry; We'll soon foind out.

**Chapter XXII – Blades of Chaos**

The parties on the island were most guarded against the others. Jack ordered no one to leave the ship alone. They stayed on _the Pearl_, even though the deck was at such a slant, that everything was more than a little awkward.

Around noon, Gibbs made his famous spaghetti, with some changes, a whole pot full. It tasted good after salted fish, even though he'd had to use dried tomatoes and other things that had been preserved. There was no beef to speak of and the goat on board was used for milk purposes so Gibbs had Sean, Tony, Ragetti and Pintel catch some fish. It was odd, but it tasted all right.

With their bellies full and their brains busy, the ship was content for a while. Jack, at some point, felt a strange need to walk towards the center of the island, however.

He had ordered everyone to take a partner, but he was certain that he would be all right. He carefully hid his compass on his person but told Gibbs he'd left it in the cabin. Wandering about, he heard footsteps in the bushes nearby. He immediately froze and strained his ears to listen for the other being.

There was some commotion and a female voice made a surprised exclamation. "Who are you? Wait a moment, you were there that first day."

Jack sighed. Elizabeth was speaking, but someone else was involved, and they weren't from _the Pearl_. Jack was again relieved when he heard Sao Feng's voice.

"My, you look beautiful," he spoke, somewhat in awe. "In a battle against Jones … can it be you are Calypso?"

"Excuse me?" she asked. Jack sighed and felt that was probably the moment to intervene. He pushed his way out of the bushes, awarding himself with not one, but two blades at his throat. He smirked and spoke quickly.

"If memory serves, and my wife is something of a mythology expert … Calypso was not a goddess."

Elizabeth sheathed her sword and Sao Feng laughed. Jack rubbed his throat and continued. "What exactly is your obsession with the Greek pantheon, Sao Feng?"

He shrugged. "I have been told that all the gods are the same … yet they answer to different names throughout the ages, throughout the worlds … each has their own sets of names."

"Interesting thought, that," Jack answered, actually thinking about it. "If it is true, who is pretending to be the Christian God?"

Sao Feng shrugged. "It is not my religion of choice."

"Well, it should be," Elizabeth answered curtly. Jack eyed her warily.

"And who are you to tell him that?" he asked of her. "We all believe what we want to, luv. Some things are easier to believe in than others."

"Got that straight," a somewhat angry voice called out. Angel joined the group, and he was alone, mercifully. He noticed Elizabeth and looked at her sideways. She stepped back, affronted by his unhindered gaze. He snorted in her general direction and ignored her the rest of the time.

Jack had not moved away from the werewolf, as much as the man's energy made his skin itch. He deliberately ignored him, knowing if he paid the newcomer any attention at all, he would either start a fight, or end up in one. Humans did not fare well against beings with super strength.

"Well, isn't this a happy little meeting?" another voice called out. Dacor meandered towards them and joined the group as well. They all sort of stood in a circle and stared questions around at each other.

"Well, does anyone actually have a reason for being out here?" Jack wondered aloud. "I find such coincidences to be unnatural and suspicious."

"Oh, you would know much about being suspicious," Elizabeth snapped.

"Oh, shut up, you," he growled. "I told you to stay on the ship unless you had a partner."

"I do not take orders from any man who manages to get my husband arrested and press ganged."

"Hey!" another completely unfamiliar voice called out. "Will you kids stop arguing and pay attention to your surroundings?"

The five coincidental wanderers turned around to see five … other people of varying sizes and genders. The one who had spoken was a slight man who seemed to grin a lot.

"Who the hell are you guys and how did you sneak up on us?" Angel asked. He had the ears of a creature that would _not_ have missed them had they arrived by natural means.

"Gods!" Sao Feng knelt immediately. Dacor stood proud and Angel looked skeptical. Elizabeth had a rather pissed expression on her face and Jack … well, Jack was looking from face to face, wondering on what exactly was going to happen, and who was going to pay for the damages. He took a hesitant step back and laughed nervously.

"Well, this is a surprise," Dacor spoke. He bowed his head. "Greetings, High Ones."

"Oh, let's leave off that," a particularly well muscled one answered. "Captain Sao Feng, rise and look at us. Fear not and all shall be explained."

Sao Feng stood quickly and fluidly and met the eyes of the one who had spoken.

"Will someone please tell us what is going on?" Elizabeth exclaimed, stamping her foot.

"She's all yours," a rather moody looking gentleman who looked capable of breaking a brick wall with his forehead said to a tall woman who seemed to be made of all pale colors and shiny surfaces. The muscled one waved his hands out and grunted.

"No, no, Snowflake," he grinned at the woman. "Is it not my job to tell them?"

"Actually, according to the lore they know, it's mine," the thin man laughed.

"All right," Jack grunted, wishing he were drunk but knowing he wasn't. "We're all suitably confused, so why don't you start with _your_ names since you already seem to know ours."

The last one, a woman with short curly hair that was a sort or reddish orange color smiled. "Ah, Jack Sparrow. Ever diplomatic."

"He has a point," the tall cold looking woman spoke. "Let us get this over with. We all want our little problem to cease, do we not?"

Jack crossed his fingers and hoped very much that he and the others were not 'their little problem'.

The muscled one spoke first. "Well, you see, we are going to charge you with a wonderful quest, full of honor and all that … and we will give you tools to work with. Two of you already have them, we see. But the rest of you, well …"

"You're not very good at this, oh King of Olympus," the thin man laughed again.

"Zeus!" Sao Feng nearly dropped to his knees again, his silly obsession with the Greek pantheon getting to him. Jack looked at the excited Asian man and then at the 'god' in question.

"You're kidding, right?"

Dacor interjected. "That name will do, then?"

'Zeus' shrugged sheepishly and answered the question. "I'm not sure how it happened, but that seems to be a popular one of my names. It will do for now. I am the lord of lightning and I did rule over a mountain called Olympus in my day." He didn't have a beard as nearly every illustration of Zeus had been depicted and was very blonde.

"Then who are the rest of you?" Angel asked, more curious than angry now. "Stick to Greek if you can … I know all those."

"I would be Hermes," the thin man laughed. "Although whoever came up with those winged sandals never knew anything about running a marathon."

"I am Demeter," the redhead answered, smiling. Her grin seemed to light the clearing and a few blossoms sprouted from the ground about her. "Ceres, I suppose you'd say, although the Celts called me Brigid, though the translation of duties was not exact."

The other woman, her manner cold and uncaring spoke harshly. "We do not have duties to the mortals."

"Chill out," Hermes told her. The moody one snorted and Hermes corrected. "No, you over _there_ chill out. She can get warmed up."

"I tried that once," the moody 'god' answered. "That was back when they were calling me Loki. I was the only one who could make her laugh."

"Loki?" Jack asked. "That's Norse."

"Yeah, yeah," the moody one answered. "I was Ares to the Greeks and Mars to the Romans and Loki to the Norsemen. The lore in Japan and other Asian mythologies says that _I_ killed off the mother of the gods by _burning_ her to death while she gave birth to me." He looked angry. "Aren't I a bastard?"

"Then … who are you?" Angel asked of the tall woman.

"I was never well known in the Greek or Roman pantheon," she answered. "I am Skadi, mistress of winter."

"Norse mythology, in case you unlearned fellows are lost," Hermes told them.

"Skadi was a giantess," Jack pointed out. "You were lumped with the gods because of a marriage to … some sea god."

"Njord," she hissed with loathing. "You know much for being of another culture."

Jack shrugged. "I've heard most of it. Everytime I misquote something that has to do with mythology, I get my ear talked off about all the different pantheons. My wife was apparently very well versed and she didn't seem to forget any of it."

The ice goddess nodded. "We are here to give you the tools to bring about the destruction of he who was once known as Njord."

"Ah, yes," Zeus smiled. "Way to get them back on track. Yes, chaps, we're here to help you help yourselves, as it were." Zeus, supposedly the mighty god of thunder and lightning and all that sounded more like a British social worker.

"As much as we would like to kill this Njord of yours," Elizabeth spoke carefully. "We have somewhat pressing matters of our own to deal with."

"Yeah, like Davy Jones," Jack growled.

"Perfect!" Demeter exclaimed. "For you see, Njord _is_ Davy Jones … and Poseidon and Neptune and those others as well."

The four mortals and the merman were silent for a moment. Dacor was not entirely surprised but Elizabeth said what they were all thinking. "Davy Jones is a god?"

"Well, he was worshipped as one at some point in time, as were we all," Hermes answered, a stickler for details.

Jack looked at Skadi with wide eyes. "You were married to Davy Jones?"

She scowled at him. "I did not know what choice I was making. It did not last long. He would not leave the sea and I would not stay."

Jack was making rather disgusted faces and trying in vain not to be sick at the thought. He laughed at the thought of Scarlette. She had told the story of Njord and Skadi once in a sort of disgusted way. Skadi had been gifted with a choice of a god for her husband but she was only allowed to look at their feet. Scarlette did not like feet at all and the story had not been one of her favorites. Apparently Njord had possessed the most beautiful of feet … did this mean that Davy Jones had pretty feet? Jack did not want to find out.

Perhaps this was a reason why Skadi was also the goddess of justice, vengeance, and righteous anger.

"You want the five of us to kill Davy Jones?" Angel asked somewhat skeptically. "But we only have two of the three swords."

"Actually, that's not true," Hermes shook his finger. "You see, not only the five of you will fight. You still have two friends … both of which should be here by tomorrow, who will join you as well. They have been visited by others."

"Who is fighting with us?" Elizabeth asked excitedly. "Is Will coming?"

"Yes, yes," Loki grunted in annoyance. "He'll be wielding the blade of light, _Shiroi-amari_."

"Then the other …" Jack didn't dare hope. It was either Scarlette or Bootstrap, and since Bootstrap had never touched any of the swords ….

"The one you know as Hades delivered her blade personally," Demeter answered, slightly angry. "She will be your darkness in battle."

"It is fitting," Sao Feng bowed his head in memory. "I likened her to Persephone before …."

Demeter's eyes grew sharp. "I suppose … she seems more like Athena, or perhaps Artemis."

Elizabeth cleared her throat. "So we are to kill the captain that holds them captive. How are we to do it?"

Loki stood and placed himself in front of Jack. "You already have the sword I would have given you. Use it. I figure you'll get the hang of it."

"That careless attitude is what earned you your titles," Skadi pointed out to him.

"Would you rather me be rage filled?" he threatened. The light in the clearing shifted.

Skadi ignored him and put her hands forward, as if she were holding something. There was a flash and a blade appeared. It gleamed a platinum color, slightly blue in the dappled light. She held it out to Elizabeth.

"_Fuyu-asa_," she spoke the Japanese words oddly. "The blade of blizzards."

Elizabeth took the sword gently and looked at the blade as it changed from a delicate waving blade to a thin, straight blade, good for fencing. Elizabeth's hand felt cold, even in the Caribbean sunlight.

Demeter smiled and stepped up to Angel. "You as well have the gift already. This blade, like the others, can be used for destruction, but this blade, more so than any of the others, can give to creation as well."

"You want us to destroy your sea god, do you not?" Angel asked.

"Yes," she answered. "But remember once he is dead that you have a choice of creating or destroying."

Angel nodded and hefted _Tekagi-fukku_.

Hermes stepped forward to Sao Feng and grinned. He opened his hand and a long, thin staff appeared. He handed it to Sao Feng and laughed as it changed to a tai-chi blade with edges so sharp it could cut air.

"This is the blade of wind," he laughed. "It is called _Nigiyaka-ten'ki_. Do you know what that means?" He was still laughing.

Sao Feng thought about it. "It translates literally into 'noisy weather'."

Hermes snorted. "I laugh because your name, 'Howling Wind' … it is funny, don't you think?" The blade was howling indeed, shining with a grey wispy light. It didn't much like being laughed about.

The last to receive his weapon was Dacor. Zeus stepped forward and conjured what looked like a living lightning bolt. He handed it to Dacor and it transformed into a long staff with jagged edges, shining a brilliant golden color.

"_Kazuchi-on'gaku_," he told him. "You may use this blade on land or in the water. It will only affect those you wish it to, so your clan, even in the water, will be safe from its effect."

"Thank you," Dacor answered. Sao Feng thanked Hermes as well. Angel and Jack had hardly acknowledged the others and Elizabeth was still a bit sore about the whole idea of religion.

Two more beings suddenly appeared. They were both pale, one in dark clothing, the other in white. The one in black seemed to eat the light in the clearing. The pale one shed light in response.

"Apollo and Hades," Hermes introduced. "It makes it easier to stick to Greek."

"Well, everything is on track," the one they called Hades spoke. "Only thing that might prove difficult … the wielder of the black sword is in the brig of his ship. She can cut her way out, but she's under a compulsion of his. Can we interfere with it?"

"When he is on land, she will be able to leave the ship," Demeter answered. "Once he touches land, his powers over those who have other's blessings diminish and fade."

"That is not true," Skadi shook her head. "His compulsion remains strong even while on land. She must find a way to throw him off."

Apollo stood silently and looked regal in his white robes. "The boy has the sword. I sent it with Iris."

"Too good to do it yourself, eh?" Loki/Ares cracked.

"No," Apollo answered. "Iris is much better at explaining things."

"Well, you need to find yourself a chest," Hades pointed out to Jack. "The rest of you need to wait your turn because ol' Poseidon … or whoever he's calling himself these days, won't come to shore for you. For this guy, he will, so back off, let him get the bastard where you need him, and swing away. Watch out for the water sword. If he sinks the island, the earth blade will be no more than just a blade and the fire and wind ones won't work very well under water."

Skadi looked at Elizabeth and spoke, her words forming a grand idea. "If you work with both the wielders of wind and lightning, you can create quite a storm that Njord cannot counter. He will only be able to _add _to it."

Hades pointed out Jack again. "You … fire and darkness. Great combination against water. With fire, he is burned, and with darkness, he cannot see anything _but _the fire." His red eyes blinked in fervor. They were enjoying this.

"Well, off you go now," Zeus waved them off. "Back to your hidey holes. Dig up your chest, unlock the damn thing if you can. Kill Davy Jones, and we'll be happy."

"What exactly are we getting in exchange?" Angel asked as everyone was leaving.

"Why, your freedoms," Skadi smiled. "Do you really think Njord will not seize every soul on this island if he manages to seize his?" She pointed at Jack.

"Yeah, I'm really getting sick of that guy taking my souls," Hades grimaced, his slick white hair blowing in the breeze. "He's holding up the line, among other things."

"What exactly is he doing that is so bad that you would seek us out to kill him?" Elizabeth asked. "And what is stopping you from killing him yourselves?"

They 'gods' eyed one another and smiled knowingly. "We figured you have more reason to kill him than us. We are not allowed to personally help mortals by killing anyone, but we can give them ways to do it themselves." Demeter answered.

Apollo gave the other part to the answer. "Poseidon, Davy Jones, as you know him, has been holding souls in limbo for hundreds of years. Not only the men on his ship are taken by him and his beast. Those who make it to his crew only stay there for one hundred years, maybe more, depending on what they bargain for whilst on board. Those that his beast, the kraken devours, those who drown, and those his crew kills at sea are kept in what he calls the 'Locker'. _Aoi-rozuka_, Blue locker, direct translation, pulls on the souls of those men. They are forever kept in a purgatory far beneath the surface."

"We can no longer allow them to remain there," Skadi spoke coldly. "They are kept from being reborn into new lives and he has accumulated enough that the rate of reproduction is slowing. When there are no souls to return, then the bodies do not survive long."

"So we're saving the world this time," Dacor spoke blandly. "I am not mortal. Why am I joined with them in this fight?"

"It is your fight as well," Zeus answered him. "Do you not wish to free yourself and your people from Jones' reign?"

Dacor nodded. "Yes, it was foolish of me to ask."

"It's foolish for us to remain here and talk," Hermes spoke up. "Off with you. Go find your chest, save the world, save the woman, save the whales … save whatever you must, but kill him, or it's you who'll need saving."

"What's this about saving things that begin with 'W'?" Jack smarted after they had gone. "Save us … what 'W' would that be?"

"Save … the wolf," Angel spoke solemnly.

"Save Will," Elizabeth was still sad about Will, even though she'd been told he was on the way.

Sao Feng, Jack, and Dacor could not think of W's for themselves and the silly idea was dropped until Dacor and Sao Feng both said 'Warrior' at the same moment. Jack glared at them. Elizabeth nudged him and said the word 'wimp' loudly enough that the others snorted, a moment of fun in times of danger.

"I am _not_ a wimp," Jack answered. "And I notice you don't have one for yourself, Elizabeth."

"I am a woman," she answered. She smiled at him, her fake sweet grin grating on his nerves. "You could be 'save the wretch'."

"That one I like," Jack growled as they trudged back towards the Pearl. "Much better than wimp. And Scarlette can be 'save the wench'."

"Wretch and wench," Elizabeth laughed.

Angel listened to their banter and stalked off to his own camp in moody silence. He had his own 'W' for Scarlette, and it had _nothing_ do with pirates.

Sao Feng returned, walking with Dacor towards _The Empress_ and decided he would be 'save the Wind'.

Dacor was pretty well over the 'W' thing by the time he finally returned to the ocean where the others basked just inside the reef.

On the other side of the island, Beckett had watched through his scope as the others appeared out of the jungle's foliage and gone their ways. He didn't know what they were all up to, but there had to be some way of foiling them. If there _was _a _way _… he _would _find it, mark his _words_, he _would_.

…**.**

Will rowed and rowed, his back aching, his skin tanning.

He'd been rowing since just before dawn and hadn't stopped. He had several times dumped water over himself just to cool off his body, his wet clothes keeping him insulated for a few precious minutes. The water evaporated out before long and now Will was caked with salt from the seawater. He reached over to the canister Scarlette had stored with fresh water and took a healthy gulp of the liquid within the container. There wasn't much left.

He could see the island now, off to the west, but he could also see _the Dutchman _again, which was not good at all. It was moving with the winds and approaching not as straightforward as he was, but it was only a matter of time. Who was going to get to the island first?

He was glad they were so close. _The Dutchman _moved faster under water, but could not travel that way so close to land.

Will bent himself over and rowed double time, putting more space and time between him and the ship he was fleeing. Only a mile or two more and he could rest.

The white blade on his back tingled. It liked being in the light and it liked that he was worthy of the blade. It fed him energy as he rowed. _Shiroi-amari_ was the most friendly of the blades.

Will laughed to himself, thinking back to when Pintel and Ragetti were rowing, and Sean and Tony were singing their rowing song. Will began to sing in an exhausted way.

"_Doom, doom. Doom, doom. Row, you bastard!_"

Suddenly, four heads perked out of the sea and looked at him with black eyes.

"Are you William Turner?" one of them asked.

"Yes," he answered hesitantly. "Who are you?" It was clear they were Lyandize, but he'd never been introduced to the clan. They were, however, ones that Scarlette had helped.

"I'm Wiobr," the largest one spoke. "They are Dewhi, Mimis, and Alfor. We thought you'd be out here. Get into the water. We can get you to shore much faster."

"How do I know you are not going to drown me?" Will asked.

"We're all working together now, you dolt," Mimis told him. "So grab what you need and get in the water. And whatever you do, don't let go of that key. We'll keep you alive and get there faster."

Will looked at the shore, still so far away, and back at _the Dutchman_, getting perilously close and decided to take a chance. He drained the last of his fresh water, placed the key and the emerald in a pocket, tying it closed. He slipped over the side and held his breath.

The Lyandize pulled him under and they started moving much more quickly through the water.

It took them minutes to cover the distance it would have taken him an hour to row. They pushed him up on the hot sand and clambered up themselves, their tails drying in the sun until they had legs to stand on.

Will shook himself off and looked around. "Is _the Pearl _here?"

"No time for that," Dacor shouted, running towards them, holding a flashing staff. The air tasted like metal and Will shivered with the energy from the staff running up his arms.

"What is that?" he asked, nodding to the brilliant staff.

Dacor smiled viciously. "It was a gift of the gods. _Kazuchi-on'gaku_."

Will walked quickly. "Where are they?"

"You must run."

"We will run then." Dacor and Will took off running along the beach.

…**.**

Farther along the beach, before Will's arrival, Jack, Elizabeth, everyone from the future, Ragetti, Pintel, and Gibbs made a half circle around a specific point. Jack had followed the compass until it had changed direction. He backed up, and the needle swung back to point ahead of him. He took one small step, and the needle spun wildly, trying in vain to point in a direction it couldn't.

"Is this it?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

"It has to be," Jack answered. He moved off the spot and set his four diggers to work. Ragetti and Pintel of course complained the entire time that one was digging too fast, and the other too slow. Sean and Tony, the other two diggers, sang another song along the lines of the first one, only instead of 'row ya bastards' it was 'dig'.

Before long, with four men digging, the progress was made. Jack looked around and noticed that Sao Feng, Angel, and Dacor were standing watch. They must have just decided it was best. How they knew _the Pearl _was going for the chest, Jack didn't know.

Sean suddenly cried out. His spade had hit something. He knelt and pulled whatever it had been out of the sand.

It was a bottle. He pulled the cork and sniffed it. Looking up at Jack, he said what everyone was thinking. "Rum."

Elizabeth rounded on Jack. "Do you mean to tell me your 'special' compass led us to a bottle of rum hidden in the sand?" Sean motioned for the others to keep digging as Elizabeth started shouting at Jack, getting louder and louder, her arms joining in the conversation. "Everything is at stake. EVERYTHING! And you go and lead us to not the chest of Davy Jones, but to a stinking foul bottle of rum that even if we _weren't _in a crisis, would not pass around twice to all of us." She had not noticed that with the arrival of Dacor, Will, her beloved had stood just behind her. He moved behind her as she backed Jack up.

"I cannot believe you, Jack!" She was livid. "You must not care nearly as much about Scarlette as I do about Will or you would not have led us all the way here to find a bloody bottle of rum! I am SO sick of these rum soaked PIRATES! AHH!" She tried to strike out at Jack, who had been shooting needle eyes at Will. Will smiled and reached out, grabbed Elizabeth at the last minute, pulling her into his arms.

She screamed and tried to attack whoever it was behind her but froze when she saw Will's face. She threw her arms around him and sobbed, holding him so tightly he made a face.

"It's all right, Elizabeth," Will whispered into her hair. "It's all right. Don't cry. I'm here now and we have things to do before Davy Jones gets here or we'll all be in danger."

"Did you get the key?" Jack asked, his arms crossed.

Will looked up and released Elizabeth who wiped at her eyes. He untied the strings on his pocket and pulled out the key. He also pulled out the emerald and handed it to Jack.

"You should hang onto this," he told the pirate. Jack held the emerald in his palm, heavy lidded eyes taking it in. Scarlette was in trouble.

"How did you get this?" he asked Will, looking up. Will held the key in his hand and before anyone could say anything, Jack snatched that too.

"Jones took it when she tried leaving this time period. She told us she could see Elizabeth and the others in the future but could still hear everything on the deck of _The Flying Dutchman_. She was pulled back by the magic of the ship and Jones, who had sensed the power surge from the emerald, took it away. I grabbed it when I took the key."

"Well, now that we have the key," Jack smiled and for the first time in days, it felt real. "We can open that bloody chest and lure him to shore."

"He's on his way now," Will told him. "He should be here before dark."

"And we still need to _find_ the chest," Elizabeth spoke with contempt.

"We've found it!" Sean exclaimed, holding up a chest. "You were just too busy to notice." Everyone spun around and sprinted for the hole. They broke off the outer lock on the chest after establishing that it was not the one the key was meant to open.

The chest was full of letters, all sealed. They seemed to be written in a language no one there understood. It seemed to have some sort of Norse origin … or Dutch. Or was it German? No one knew. They cleared away the paper and other trinkets to find a smaller chest within the first one.

Jack pulled it out carefully and set it on the white sand. Even the self appointed sentries had come in closer to see the fabled chest. It seemed so dark on the blazing sand.

"There's something moving inside," Angel whispered. "I can hear it."

The others of more human origin leaned forward and gasped as the thud of whatever was inside reverberated against the chest.

"Well done, Jack Sparrow," a voice commented. Jack turned around and found Tia Dalma clapping quietly.

"How did you get here?" Jack asked, not of her, but of her entourage. Libussa, Unorna, and Heather were there as well. Makeo and Ruby stood behind them by a little ways and it was clear that they were ignoring everyone but each other.

"You know as well as I dat modes of transportayshun in dese waters are not jus' on de ships." She smiled her blackened smile at him and wrinkled her nose. The dots around her eyes seemed exceptionally prominent today.

Heather moved to join her future buddies and felt much better for it. Tia Dalma had sort of … appeared in Tortuga, along with Ruby and Makeo only a few days before, cackling about the potential power of nymphomaniacs. Her presence had set the place on its ear. Two seers was one thing but their third and superior, well, they were fairly drowning in arcane voodoo magic.

"What brings you here?" Jack asked her nervously.

"You best be openin' dat chest 'stead of questionin' me."

Angel whirled about as if he had heard something. "Bad news." Gun shots ripped through the air and everyone hit the sand. Beckett was on a horse, charging full out towards them and waving a cavalier sword, followed by his marines.

Jack's face fell and he quickly put the key around his neck, glad Will hadn't taken the leather thong off it.

Angel stood and pulled out his sword. _Tekagi-fukku_ rang with power and he growled in a most feral sort of way. He charged towards the advancing marines. Will ran after him, pulling out _Shiroi-amari_. He was most shocked when Elizabeth stopped at his side, _Fuyu-asa_ shining in her hand.

Sao Feng, who had been silent up to that point, gave a battle howl fit for any Mongolian raider, striking terror into the hearts of cowards. _Nigiyaka-ten'ki_ cleared its sheath and sang in the open air. The sand blew up in gusts as he ran towards the marines.

Dacor and Jack had unsheathed their weapons as well but hadn't moved from around the chest. They watched, the fire and energy of their blades crackling, as ice, light, wind and earth rose from the others.

Beckett urged his horse onward and the animal jumped clear over Angel, who slashed out with a left hand that had sprouted claws across the horse's chest. The animal screamed but pressed onward, moving past the other three sword wielders. They laid into the marines with a ruthless fervor.

The ground was cleft by Angel, and the wind threw sand into the faces of the marines and ripped at their skin like teeth. Ice rained from the sky and stabbed from the ground and above it all, the men were blinded by light while the sun blistered their skin. They were being bombarded by sensory pain. One had frozen to the ground and was shouting over the wind for aid.

Sao Feng and Angel saw no problem in killing the marines. They slew the men they came to. Elizabeth and Will were a little more gentle, but to defend themselves, they were forced to kill. When all four blades were christened in blood, the power rose. Soon there were no marines on the beach that drew breath. The four chosen warriors stood, their blades clean but their minds altered. Their eyes shined with the colors of their powers. Angel had green eyes, rimmed in the markings of his wolf, leaving his face looking almost like a skull with the black sockets and the glowing orbs. He felt ageless and strong, unbreakable by any force.

Sao Feng's eyes were a stormy grey and he was working at suppressing a laughter that threatened to bubble up and out of his lips. The type of laughter that wanted to spring forth was not in his character at all and that alone was troubling him.

Will's eyes were a blazing white and he felt gently calm about the deaths, not something he usually felt after laying waste to many men. He usually had some remorse for the people he'd killed or beaten because he was a good man. Something in his head told him the deaths were for a greater good and the light would not let him do darker things.

Elizabeth was so cold inside, she should have been shivering. Her normally brown eyes were shining with a platinum blue light and she didn't seem to care about even being warm again.

Jack and Dacor stood and moved toward Beckett's berserk horse. Beckett was shouting and laughing, very uncharacteristically for him as well. Jack's heart filled with rage and his eyes went red. He swung at the horse as it passed him and the others gasped at the sight of a quadruped animal suddenly becoming one without any -peds at all. The horse fell, legless and whined mournfully. Beckett had thrown himself off the horse when it fell.

Suddenly the air was full of shouts. _The Dutchman_ was there at the shore, its hull scooting over the sand. Men poured over the sides with roars. Maccus was twirling a pair of tomahawks and gnashing his teeth.

Jack kicked sand in Beckett's direction, diving for the chest. He held onto the key as he scooped up the chest.

"Run!" Will shouted out, breaking for it. Elizabeth followed. Sao Feng and Angel glanced at each other before racing off after the others.

Robin, Heather, and the other future girls were happy to be in clothing they could run in as they kept pace with Gibbs, Ragetti, Pintel, Sean, and Tony. The voodoo sisters seemed to have vanished again.

Jack had never run that fast in his life, and the speed was hard to keep up, carrying the chest.

Maccus and Jimmylegs led the charge but the rest of Jones' men were not far behind.

Jones himself stood on the deck of his ship and watched everyone flee before his men. He surveyed the bodies of the EITC marines with wonder. What had been done to them?

He figured it was time to check on his prisoners before leaving the ship.

…**.**

Scarlette was sitting in the cell when the ship ran aground. She could hear all the men leave in a wash of excitement. Feeling their joy leak out of the ship until all that was left was her, Bootstrap, Davy Jones, and the kraken. She could _feel_ the kraken, a large power that seemed grow in excitement.

Jones entered their level and both Scarlette and Bootstrap stood. He laughed at them and drove his claw into the cage bars, making the entire iron work vibrate.

"Do you know where we are?" he growled at them. They gave him stony faces and he bashed the bars again. Whatever his claw was made of, it seemed to be tough enough to take the hit.

"We're at Isla Cruces and that boy your filthy husband sent onto this ship has made it there before us with the key that _you_ help him steal." He smashed once again into the bars. "And now you are going to help me get the chest back before they open it."

"I will do no such thing," Scarlette told him, smiling sweetly.

"Oh, I think you will," he snarled, reaching out to the bars. He wrapped his hand around them and pulled, showing just how strong he was by ripping the door off and tossing it behind him. Wyvern's eyes blinked open and he focused on the captain.

"Gods be merciful," he whispered in his graveled voice. "The captain's compulsion can only be broken by those who are not his creatures."

"I have had enough out of you," Jones snapped, smashing the face of Wyvern with his claw. He was in an odd rage that not many had seen before. Wyvern sagged but didn't seem to die. Jones turned from him, as if it were not the first time he had hurt the frozen sailor.

"You will come with me, girl. You as well," he beckoned them and they fought. Bootstrap fell to his knees, willing his legs to remain slack. He felt his body rising, his knees bending, feet taking the floor and knew he had once chance, one painful chance, to refuse the captain. He slipped his knife into his hand and reached down, slicing through the tendons behind his own ankles. He cried out in pain filled rage, but his legs were not going to work without those particular attachments.

"You can't make me come if I cannot walk, sir," Bootstrap laughed and slumped. He had mercifully passed out. Scarlette did not blame him. Cutting those probably had caused him an indescribable amount of pain. She was not that strong.

Jones watched him fall with a rather unconcerned look on his face. He turned to Scarlette. "Pick him up."

"Is that an order, or am I _allowed _to pick him up?" she asked.

"You could not do it if it were not an order," Jones told her.

"Watch me," she bent to one knee and surging to her feet with the effort, lifting Bootstrap on her shoulder. "You would do better if you did not underestimate my abilities."

"Take him outside and get off this ship. We're going after Jack Sparrow."

"Captain Jack Sparrow," she corrected.

"He no longer deserves the title," Jones sneered. "There is only one captain on this ship."

Scarlette growled and told Bootstrap to hang on. She swung her weight and his over the railing and climbed down to the chest deep water. Jones followed and they waded up to the beach, which had been deserted, save for the bodies of the marines.

Once out of the water, Scarlette set Bootstrap down as gently as she could. He sat up and looked at her as if he had never seen her before.

"The captain's compulsion does not work on creatures that don't belong to him!"

"I heard Wyvern," she answered. "But we are both his creatures, and we did it to ourselves."

"Yes, but I heard the tales of your night of the full moon," he answered. "Not all of you belongs to him."

"What are you blatherin' about, Bootstrap Bill?" Jones stepped up, the peg of his leg sinking into the sand a bit.

"Njord," a cold voice spoke. Davy Jones turned, a somewhat shocked look on his face. A tall woman stood just behind him. Her skin was so white it had a bluish tint. She wore a flowing white dress and her hair was a dark blue that shined in the light of the day.

"You," his voice had taken a more tender tone. "You came back."

"No," she answered. "It ends today."

"We'll just see about that."

"Actually, I quite agree with her," Scarlette spoke.

"You are in no position to agree with her," Jones spat. "Now, if you will excuse us, Ice Queen, we've got souls to capture."

She smiled and the air grew a few notches colder. "We shall see." She vanished in a whirl of snowflakes. The sand was wet with melted ice.

"Walk," Jones pointed. "We're going to find them and get the key _and _the chest back."

Scarlette didn't fight, but walked ahead of him into the jungle. "She called you 'Njord'. Njord was the Norse god of the sea."

"So he was," Jones answered. He didn't seem keen to discuss the encounter. Scarlette thought back to the man who had given her the dark sword. He had said that Davy Jones was once known as Poseidon … Njord was sort of the Norse equivalent. The fact that Jones could call the kraken, a creature out of Greek mythology that did answer to Poseidon, sort of cemented the theory that he _was_ in fact the would be god.

And she was supposed to kill him.

As they trudged through the jungle, listening to the shouts of men from all around, Scarlette wondered. There were powers inside her that Jones did not command. Could she bring those forward and throw off the compulsion?

Elizabeth, Will, Sao Feng, and Angel ran past suddenly, followed by a passel of _Dutchman_ crew. Jones pointed her in that direction. "Go with the men, fight with them, and do not fail me again, or you will regret it."

Scarlette broke and ran for the others, knowing that Jones' wording was faulty. She grinned and joined the fray, pulling out _Shizuka-shini_. Her sword, 'silent death', would help her greatly.

Jones headed towards the center of the island, where he knew his possessions were located.

…**.**

Tia Dalma, Libussa, Unorna, Makeo, and Ruby all sat on the shore and conversed with the gods.

Makeo and Ruby had to warm up to the idea of their existence, but once introductions were over, they had no trouble addressing the 'deities'.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," Zeus was saying. "The last time we had a mortal go after one of us … it was sort of a disaster."

"Let's not talk about that particular mistake on your part," Ares requested with just the slightest edge of fire to his words.

"I am concerned," Tia Dalma spoke up, her thin brown hands tangled in her hair for a moment. "Dat dese blades might alter dem too much. Dey is mortal still, and dere minds be fragile."

"We purposefully chose those seven because their minds were _not_ as fragile as most," Demeter pointed out. "Also, those particular individuals are most pressed to kill our brother. Each has their own reason for doing away with him. Mine thinks that by freeing the woman that he'll have claim to her heart, so in a way, he fights for love. Has that not always been a worthy cause amongst us?" Ares snorted.

"Mine fights for himself," he countered.

"Yours fights to free himself and the one he loves from the bastard's clutches," Hades interrupted. "So yes, war fiend, you stand for love as well. Both of us, not normally put into such a position, must stand for it for our chosen fight for each other as well as themselves."

"What sort of time have we come into where war and death stand for love," Ares scoffed.

Skadi cleared her throat and the sound dent icy shivers up everyone's spines. "I must admit that some of us are pushed out of our forte with this. I do think however that to stop him, we must accept the terms at which his end is offered. So what if these silly mortals fight for what they believe in? Do they not all fight for freedom as well? The Merman, fights to be free of slavery, as do the Necromancer and the Pirate. The Lady and the Blacksmith fight for the freedom of others and themselves. The Warrior fights for the freedom of many more than the others, but still, it is there. The Wolf we have covered but again, freedom is there."

"I still don't much like it," Ares answered. Skadi frowned at him.

"Have we not commissioned them to free the souls that Njord has trapped? It is what we want as well. We all fight for the same cause."

"Well said, Skadi," Zeus clapped a hand on her back a little too hard for the ice goddess. She sent a frozen glare back at him.

"And what if dey die?" Tia Dalma asked, serious as usual. She looked at Hades and stood, daring to stand up to them. "Would you take dem if dey could not kill dis man? What is de cost to dem? Or … do you care if dese mortals do your biddin' an' do not come back?"

"Such is the way of the gods," Ruby spoke up, angry. "You give only what you think will help _you_ gain what you desire."

"You speak as if you know, mortal," Ares eyed her.

"I was born a half siren," she answered. "I fell under the Greek pantheon, did I not? I did not understand my powers and spent many years in torment because of it. Where were the gods then?"

"Sirens fall under the power of Poseidon," Hermes answered. "As he has all but gone rogue, there is your answer. It was not our job to help you."

"And Calypso," Tia Dalma added darkly. "Do not forget de goddess o' de sea."

Zeus looked at her and laughed. "You speak of ulterior motives. Do not speak to us of selfish use of mortals, woman. We know your agenda."

Tia Dalma smiled her dark smile and looked at Ruby, who changed the subject back to something she understood.

"And would you leave someone dying because it was not your job to heal them?" Ruby asked. "Even if the wounds inflicted are because they were aiding you?"

None of the 'gods' spoke. They were not sure how this should be handled. Skadi stood forward and spoke coldly to Ruby. "Do you question the gods, mortal?"

"You just got done telling us that you, throughout history, were _known_ as gods, but you never once said that you were gods. Immortals, yes, but gods, no. Immortals can be questioned."

"What do you care for these people?" Ares hissed at her. "You hated them before. They pushed you into horrid service, loaned you to the people of the East, and finally, traded you to the voodoo queen to pay for their information. Why do you care now?"

"I don't," she answered simply. "But I worry about what will happen if they do not succeed. Will we all be doomed if Davy Jones is not defeated?"

"We do not see the future," Apollo, who until that moment had been silent. "We hope to change what is and according to our own rules, we must give the mortals a chance to change it. If they fail, then we will have to step in. If they fail, we strongly suggest that you vacate the area."

"Why is that?" Makeo asked.

"Because when dey fight toge'der," Tia Dalma answered. "De powers be too great for you to live wid. Dey cannot be careful when dey are fightin' ano'der like dem."

"Too true," Hermes answered a little apprehensively. "I really hope that these chosen people can kill him, because I don't want to have to fight him."

"Surely you can all take him on at once," Unorna pointed out. "Seven against one is not exactly fair odds, but you should have no problem, being that you are the side with the odds."

"Why do you worry, then?" Zeus asked of them. "Your seven mortal friends should be more than enough."

"But dey can die," Libussa answered.

"Minor detail," Hades answered. "They have the blades of immortals. Those weapons can slay anything. With seven of them, they should have no problem."

A raucous noise from the other side of the island made everyone turn their heads to look for signs of damage.

"Well, I'd say that's our cue," Hermes pointed out. "Gotta run, kids. See ya later." He vanished in a wave of wind. The others all disappeared in various elemental portals.

Tia Dalma frowned. "Dey are not much to be wantin'. We will make it, den." She gave each of them a list. "Bring dese back here, quick, quick."

The four went off looking for ingredients and Tia Dalma looked out to the sea with growing worry. She _could _see the future at times, but this was not one of them. The interference of the swords' powers and those of the deities were clouding her own.

"Jack Sparrow," she whispered out to the sand. "We will see if your luck be 'oldin' out dis time."

…**.**

Yep. May 14th 2007 3:35 pm. Yes, it is actually daylight outside. Page count brings us up to … 600. Woot, woot.


	24. Chapter XXIII: Steel Tempest

We're chuggin' right along, we are. Almost finished, kidlets. This one may fall just short of the first one, but I don't mind a bit.

Hah! I'm going to Disneyland! In August, whoopee! Can you see the pirate is excited? Whoopee!

Mungojerry; There's on'y two things she gets this excited by. Disneyland, and … well, come ta think of it … Oi never saw her that excited any other toime.

Shut yer gob, cat.

**Chapter XXIII –Steel Tempest**

Jack, Dacor, Gibbs, Heather, Robin, and Beckett, all ended up running for their lives in one direction while the others ended up elsewhere. Beckett seemed to have forgotten that he was trying to get the chest and threw every fiber of his stuffed shirt, snob nosed aristocratic self into running full out. His little buckle shoes were pinching something awful and he knew his stockings were running with the razor grass foliage but he continued. The one time he had chosen to wear shoes instead of boots and he was called upon to run. Damn.

Jack and Dacor were leading the charge, Gibbs and a limping, whimpering Beckett following. Robin and Heather, in their jeans and sneakers ran to the sides, wanting to get ahead of Becket and Gibbs, but not wanting to get lost in the jungle.

Behind them, screaming their battle cries shrilly and roaring with the thought of ripping flesh apart with their eclectic weaponry was about a third of _the Dutchman's_ crew. Jimmylegs and Clanker were at the fore and behind them ran Wheelback and Koleniko. Hadras along with other strange crewmen raced behind them.

Jack cleared the jungle and found himself racing down a grassy hill, on his way to a set of ruins. It looked as if it had been the old mission, which could only mean one thing. Jack jumped just in time, avoiding an open grave. He was so happy to have missed it that he laughed and looked back as he kept running.

His feet fell before him and he fell into another grave. The chest flew from his hands to roll down the hill. Beckett saw this and sprinted for all he was worth, scooping up the chest and continuing on towards the mission ruins. Dacor stopped and pointed his staff, _Kazuchi-on'gaku_ at the tide of crewmen flowing down the hill and zapped them. The grass caught fire at their feet and the sound of the lightning striking was horrible.

They screamed as the energy poured through them but they kept trudging forward, unable to defy their captain's orders. The smell of ozone and simmering fish filled the air.

Heather and Robin however had seen Beckett's brief display of speed and were after him, leaping over the open graves. Heather, trained in fencing and other athletic arts was swift, and quickly gained on Beckett. Robin was not in peak condition, but she was no slouch, even though she hated running.

Beckett had just reached the bottom of the hill when Heather gave a flying leap and landed on his back, taking him to the ground.

Gibbs had hauled Jack out of the grave and they had started running again, dodging the other graves. The crew had recovered from their nasty shock and started running again as well. Dacor had been waiting for their recuperation and zapped them yet again as Jack and Gibbs ran past.

Jack looked over his shoulder, knowing better than to keep running this time. He aimed a well-placed fire burst that singed off the shoulder of one of the crew. He and Dacor turned and broke for it, noticing the struggle that was going on at the foot of the hill.

Heather and Beckett were rolling about, each trying to pry the chest from the other. Robin had just reached them. She let fly with a kick, which unfortunately hit Heather instead of Beckett. He rose and took off again as Heather clutched her stomach and Robin apologized. The men flew by after Beckett and Heather and Robin looked up at the seasoned crew running full tilt down the hill at them.

"Oh, shit," Robin grabbed Heather by the shirt and hauled her to her feet, both running after Jack, Gibbs, and Dacor.

Of course, everyone headed to the ruins. Robin was the only one there who knew about the damn ruins, and yet, everyone else made a beeline for the crumbling structure.

Gibbs smashed into Beckett just as he reached the door, crushing the smaller man against the aged stone. Beckett let all his air out with a whoosh and cradled himself. Gibbs was now in possession of the chest. The others rushed through the door as Gibbs ran up the spiral stairs. Beckett hunched inside and leaned against the wall, just inside the doorway.

Before long, he straightened up in fear as the crewmen from _the Dutchman_ spewed into the mission, running up the stairs after the chest. They were blind in their rage and their quest to return the chest to their captain took precedence. Even if they had seen him, they might have left him there.

Beckett was not happy. That chest was _his_ and no one else's. He would take it. He left the mission and looked up at the noises that were coming from the roof.

Jack was trading blows with a shrimpy looking crew member by name of Penrod. He charged up the blade and shot it through the man, the supposed immortal's body going up in flames and falling to the grass below. Gibbs and Dacor were busy with others, and Heather was going at it as well. Robin had the chest and had pressed herself against a wall.

Beckett smiled and looked at the vines climbing up the wall of the ruins. He tested a few and began to scale the wall in a very ungentlemanly like way.

Gibbs let go with a punch and Hadras lost his head. The conch shell went flying and suddenly all _the Dutchman _crew leapt off the mission after it. Hadras' body wind milled its arms and fell off the roof, crashing below.

Hadras began yelling in Cantonese to get his body to come to him. It stumbled around and fell into an empty grave. That was the end of that.

Clanker lifted up the head of Hadras and chuckled.

"What are you doing?" Hadras exclaimed a second before Clanker punted the head to Wheelback. "Noooo!"

"You lost a game and the bet was that we could play the next time you lost your head," Jimmylegs grinned, catching Wheelback's pass. He pitched the head at Koleniko. The other crewmen were getting into it now. Penrod's burnt body got up and joined the game, much to Jack's dismay.

"Well, while they're … distracted, perhaps we should retreat to the safety of a hidden location," Jack muttered, turning around to find that Beckett had pinned Robin and stolen the chest. Beckett nodded curtly to Jack and attempted to climb down the side of the wheel. (I am sure we all know as to _which _wheel I am referring.)

Robin, angry at being surprised, launched herself at him. They landed on the wheel and fell through, breaking the surface planks, landing inside. The rough jarring of their impact broke the axel and the wheel, of course, started to roll down the hill towards the beach. It broke through the head tossing party and quickly picked up speed. Jack, Gibbs, Dacor, and Heather sort of had a moment of staring before Jack spoke up. "Follow that wheel."

They slipped off the roof, carefully jumping for the higher land, and rushed after the wheel. Jones' crew had angrily chased it after it had interrupted their game and they had a much better 'head' start. Speaking of which, Hadras was still shouting. Heather picked up his head and dropped it into another grave to muffle his shouts.

The four of them ran through the trough in the foliage the wheel had carved. It didn't take long for them to catch up to the crew. Jack and Dacor sliced and smashed their way through, many of the trees catching fire briefly both from the heat of _Kuroi-agohige_ and from being struck but _Kazuchi-on'gaku_.

They hacked mercifully through the men, not stopping to see if they were dead or not. Many of them fell and rose up around Heather and Gibbs, who kicked and fought their way through them as well.

Clanker tripped and Dacor drove his staff into his back, causing little bits of lightning to dance between Clanker's teeth as he screamed. Dacor ripped the staff out and kept running. Clanker stood and swung his chain shot around in a rage, smashing into Gibbs' arm. There was a loud crack as the bone broke and Gibbs shouted in pain. He tried running after everyone, but the pain was too great. The crew of _the Dutchman_ ignored him and he spat, heading for the beach.

When he got there, he noticed the prone body of Bootstrap. Running over and calling the other man's name, he got a faint response.

"How did you get here?" Gibbs asked.

"Jones commanded Scarlette to bring me here. I think he wanted her to carry me all the way inland, but she set me here instead."

"What's wrong with ye?" Gibbs asked. "A healthy man doesn't lie about."

Bootstrap laughed. "I sliced my tendons to prevent him from controlling me. Even now I can feel them healing. By the time the sun sets, I will be able to walk. Jones must be dead by then, or I will just be returning to the ship."

Gibbs looked out at the sun. It was well on its way to setting. "I don't know if we're going to meet your deadline."

…**.**

The wheel was still slicing its way through the jungle and Jack, Dacor, and Heather had managed to fight and run their way past all _the Dutchman's_ crew.

Dacor reared back and tossed a thunderbolt at a tree in the path of the wheel, causing it to fall over. He had hoped it would stop the wheel from progressing but the wheel rode over the tree, jumping into the air.

There was a scream from the wheel and Robin's long hair could be seen for a moment. She was hanging onto the inside of the wheel, as was Beckett, the chest wedged behind his back. He had decided he might survive if he closed his eyes tightly.

The wheel finally broke from the jungle and sped along the beach. It entered the water and steadily rode out for a while. The tide had come in a bit, so there was a stretch of white sand underneath the turquoise water.

Robin wasted no time in pulling her body out of the wheel. She vomited daintily into the water and slumped, too spent to think. Beckett staggered out of it, tripping three times on the same unseen object. The chest spilled out of his arms and rolled in the waves.

Jack, Dacor, and Heather were still running when a giant tentacle waved at them from behind the felled wheel. Beckett and Robin couldn't see it.

Dacor shouted and raised his staff to the heavens. Lightning struck the water, sparing Robin, but the kraken that was hiding in the deeper water and Beckett gave loud noises of pain, though Beckett's was more a scream and the kraken made a screech that made chalkboards seem friendly.

Dacor seized the chest, careful not to get his legs wet and broke into a sprint along the beach. Heather helped Robin, and Jack, once sure they would be fine, ran after the merman. Beckett rose from the water with rage in his eyes, his white wig slightly worse for wear. He also broke into a flat out run. He and Jack were about the same height, that was, short. One was fueled by the rage of the blade, the other had his own to fuel him. Beckett broke even with Jack before long.

Jack looked over at the man and snorted, jamming an elbow into his chest. Beckett retaliated. Jack tripped the other man and didn't stop running. Beckett threw a handful of sand in anger. That was when he noticed the horse. There had been people on this island once, so a horse by itself, grazing in the grass near shore, was not too strange. He managed to lure the animal and mount it but the horse was anything but tame.

The next thing Jack saw was the ass of the berserk horse, Beckett's hands tangled in the animal's mane.

Jack paused for a moment, unable to believe his eyes as Beckett snatched the chest again. Dacor was as surprised as Jack was, seeing as the chest was grabbed right from his own hands.

Jack drew even with the merman and spoke, nearly out of breath. "I don't know what's more surprising. The fact that Beckett of all people is managing to keep up with us, or … him riding bareback on a horse."

Jack and Dacor watched as the horse went into a fit of rage and threw Beckett clean off, running away, screaming. Beckett picked himself up and held the chest. He was facing them across a stream. Jack, the key still around his neck, launched himself across the stream. He grabbed for the chest and Beckett grabbed for the key at the same moment. The leather snapped and the key was in Beckett's grasp. Jack's hands slipped on the chest and Beckett swung it, smacking him in the face. Jack rocked back and landed in the stream, touching his mouth where the chest had hit him. He stood and glared at Beckett, readying his blade as a trickle of blood fell from his split lip.

Jack and Dacor both swung back their swords, charging up to bombard this particular annoyance with their respective elemental flavors. Without warning, the stream exploded upward in a great rushing wall of water. It pressed down on them like a hand and crushed them to the ground.

When it abated, Jack looked up just in time to see Beckett floating down the now deepened stream towards the ocean, with both the chest _and _the key. Looking over at Dacor, he noticed that his Lyandize companion had reverted to his other form with the coming of the water.

Jack rose and started making his way after Beckett when a frighteningly familiar voice called. "Did you not wonder why the water rose, Jack Sparrow?" Jack turned and Davy Jones stood, on land, his coat flapping in the slight breeze that whistled through the trees.

"I had given it a second's thought," Jack answered reluctantly. "But of course, I had more pressing matters at that particular moment in time."

"Silly Sparrow," Jones gargled. "You are coming with me. You will serve on my ship and you will suffer greatly. I will see that you get everything you deserve."

Jack's eyes grew wide and he swung out with his blade, fire ringing out in a deafening wave. Jones cried out as his claw was singed. He snapped it twice and looked at Jack.

"Never forget, Jack, that water puts out fire."

Dacor snorted from his place on the ground and raised his staff to send lightning at Jones, who parried the bolts with his claw. It was acting as a sort of shield.

"Water always seems to augment lightning, however," Dacor smirked, standing again, His legs had returned with all the heat in the clearing drying his tail.

"Do not forget who you owe allegiance to, Lyandize," Jones called out, washing Dacor's legs away again. "I am the sea, and you cannot defy me."

"Watch me," Dacor answered, sending such a shock of lightning towards Jones that Jack could smell singed hair coming from his own person. He backed up and sent his own bolt of fire towards Jones.

Davy Jones managed to block both and sneered. "You're going to have to come closer to have any hope of hitting me. I am not one to be struck with ranged attacks."

As soon as the words had cleared his lips, a sword appeared in his shoulder, the tip of the blade showing above his collarbone. He howled and bent forward. Scarlette put her foot on his back and removed the sword she had thrown at him with a ripping force that left no room for gentleness.

"All evidence to the contrary, you salty excuse for a sea god," she snapped, hefting the black sword of death.

…**.**

(_Some minutes before …_)

Scarlette had run with the crew from _the Dutchman_, waiting until Jones had gone sufficiently far enough away. She attacked without warning, bringing _Shizuka-shini _to her hand effortlessly.

"Will!" She called out, slicing into Palafico. She concentrated on the blade and absorbed his animation into it, leaving his body empty. The blade of death _was_ capable of killing them without a beheading or other modes of death for immortal beings.

Will looked back and shouted to the others. Sao Feng and Angel charged forward to aid her. Will raised his blade up high, casting a white light over everything. It heightened the shadows on the ground and Scarlette dipped her blade into one, bringing the rest of them up to envelope the crewmen.

Maccus hissed at her and she jumped at him, kicking him to the ground and driving her blade into his chest. She leaned over him.

"You aren't supposed to be able to attack us on land," he complained helplessly. "The compulsion should have guarded against it."

"Not if Jones wasn't careful with his words," she answered. "He told me merely to 'go with the men, fight with them,' but he did not specify who or what I was supposed to fight. I make my own rules; you should know that by now."

"Will you kill him?" Maccus asked, his body pinned by the blade. "Do you think you can do such a thing?"

"That's the general idea," she answered.

"You'll never manage it. You're a woman."

Scarlette wrenched her blade from him and brought it down again in his throat, absorbing him as well. She left him dead, and turned to the others, who had each managed to take out their own opponents. The blades did not work on these men as well as they had on the marines.

"That should hold them for a while, at least," Sao Feng spoke as they surveyed the damage. Two of the men were in solid blocks of ice. Scarlette looked over at Elizabeth and her dainty sword.

"Well, I see I wasn't the only one visited by other beings," she held her sword in one hand over her shoulder. Her eyes stopped on Angel and she frowned. "How did you get here?"

"Same way you did," he answered. "It's hard to get to an island if you don't go by ship."

"Smart ass," she smiled. "Are you here to help?"

"I'm here to set you free, babe," he answered with a grin. "And apparently I'm part of the Kill-the-Sea-God committee."

"You too, huh?" she smirked. "So, the five of us … there should be two more. I assume Jack still has the blade of fire. Who is the seventh?"

"Dacor," Will answered. "He uses the weapon of lightning."

"Does anyone know what these names mean?" Elizabeth asked. "What does _Fuyu-asa_ mean?"

"Winter morning," Scarlette and Sao Feng answered simultaneously. They frowned at each other.

"_Shiroi-amari_ … I don't know if I want to know what the English translation is," Will looked at his sword.

"It's probably best," Scarlette smirked. _Shiroi-amari_ meant 'white rain', the name of a shampoo or soap in her time.

"Let us leave here and find the others," Sao Feng called out.

"Right," Will answered, and the five of them started jogging through the jungle, following the sounds of screams and destruction.

It had not taken them long to find the remainder of _the Pearl_'s crew and the future gang being chased by a passel from _the Dutchman_. The five of them had been about to interfere on the crew's behalf when a group of Lyandize, shifters, and Sao Feng's crew emerged from the woods and enveloped_ the Dutchman_ men. The gang from _the Pearl _jumped in after that and it turned into a big romp on the monsters party.

"I think they can handle it," Angel laughed. The five moved out again, running along, light on their feet. A loud lightning sound drew their attention to the north side of the island. They changed direction and moved swiftly through the jungle.

It was to everyone's great surprise, even Angel's, when a giant hamster wheel rolled by, a screaming Robin and a dead looking Beckett riding within. It was followed by Jack, Dacor, and Heather. The five had been about to join the chase when more _Dutchman_ crew followed past.

With a war cry worthy of Xena, Scarlette launched herself, sword first, at Jimmylegs, who had been the one holding the whip every time she fell under the leather. She embedded the blade in his throat and with a cold, unfeeling twitch, she lopped his head off.

She gasped at the sight, knowing the blade was getting to her, just as the water one had. She had killed before, but save for the vampires, she had never felt the need to decapitate anyone. She looked up to see Elizabeth acting just as brutally, with an even colder expression. The winter kills but never shows remorse.

Will shoved his blade into Wheelback and the crewman shrieked, white light emanating from his body a moment before he seemed to explode.

Angel impaled Clanker on his earthen blade and twisted. Vines and roots shot out from Clanker's body, ripping him apart as they sought the ground.

Sao Feng's bodies were greater in number than anyone else, however. His wind blade had surrounded a few of them and raised a twister around them until the flesh was sawed off their bones.

"Shall we, then?" he asked the other four, as if they had been slacking. Angel gave a snort and sprinted after the wheel and the others, pacing Sao Feng. Scarlette ran after them, calling them bastards the whole way. Will and Elizabeth followed at a slower pace, mere mortals still, and not quite as enthusiastic as the others were.

The five of them followed the wheel as far as it went, entering the beach after the horse business. They noticed Robin and Heather on the beach.

"They went that way," Heather pointed out. "Follow the footprints. That should lead you somewhere."

Easier said than done, of course. The footprints led them back into the jungle. They trudged forward, looking for signs of their missing companions, when a loud splash alerted them to a direction. They heard voices before they reached the small area.

"You're going to have to come closer to have any hope of hitting me. I am not one to be struck with ranged attacks." It was the voice of Davy Jones. Scarlette looked around and saw his broad back. She smirked and let fly with the dark sword. It smashed into his shoulder, sticking into him like an exclamation.

He roared and bent forward, giving her a glimpse of Jack's head. She rushed forward and braced her foot against his back, wrenching the blade out, wanting to cause as much pain as possible.

"All evidence to the contrary, you salty excuse for a sea god," she snapped at him. "Best watch your back, _Captain_."

He straightened up and looked at her with his beady eyes. "You cannot harm me, Sparrow. I will not allow it."

"And what are you going to do to stop her?" Dacor snarled, standing once again.

Jones did not answer with words, but reached in her direction and whispered directly into her mind. "_Kill them_."

She fell to her knees and screamed, holding her head with her hands. _Shizuka-shini_ vanished but her hands itched for other weapons, other means of killing. She could faintly hear Jones telling the others that if they attacked him, he could kill her just by willing it. This was not true, she knew, but his command to kill them had been in her head. They didn't know.

Bootstrap's words came back to her. _The captain's compulsion only works on creatures that belong to him _….

She was a necromancer, but that dark power had been in place before she made her deal. It was part of the package. The Lyandize magic still within her also was something he had command over, but there was something that he did not understand, and the key to unlocking it was nearby.

She reached out blindly with her left hand, the leather bracelet still clasped around it and her fingers closed around a hand. The energy that rushed down her arm let her know without looking that she had found what she'd been seeking. She drew on Angel's power and called up the wolf within in her own shields.

"_Yes, Scarlette, kill them. Leave Jack, for your own mind's wellbeing, and for my payment on his part._" Scarlette was clinging to Angel's hand and feeding on the energy that poured through his palm into her being. Angel had caught on and forced more of that particular flavor of power into her.

She let forth a howl and her eyes went gold. Her canines elongated slightly and claws shot from her fingertips.

"I am not your _creature_!" it was a scream that hardly sounded human, though the only things that had changed were her eyes, teeth, and claws. The black sword returned and she lunged, her blade grating against his.

"Admirable, Sparrow," he gargled. "You told me you didn't know what sort of earthen power rested within you. I think you _lied!_" On the last word, he threw his arms up and water erupted from everywhere. The trees tilted and fell in the rush of liquid. The seven sent to kill him were torn away from each other in the tumult.

When he was finished, Jones stood in a puddle where the stream had been. The felled trees had broken apart to form a clearing and Jones guffawed as his opponents picked themselves up from the wet remains of that particular section of jungle.

Dacor, using the water's sudden depth to his advantage, launched himself from it in a sort of torpedo like attack. He and Jones met, blade to staff and the friction from the lightning charges dried Dacor's tail instantly, giving him legs. Jones threw him off and the others stood, glaring.

"Well, that's how you fools are wanting to play then," he snarled at them and pulled long daggers from all around his person. He must have had nearly twenty weapons hidden on him. He equipped himself with enough blades to deflect everyone, manipulating the new blades with his tentacles. None of the occupants in this battle had ever seen someone wield weapons with their beard. It was something to gawk at and the surprise was well founded.

Jones laughed aloud, whirling his nine weapons, that was, _Aoi-rozuka_, his claw, and seven blades held in his beard, each one moving separate from the rest.

Jack grimaced. "This just got a lot more difficult."

Angel shook the water off himself like a dog shaking after a bath. "You want to go after that chest instead?"

"Sounding better and better," Jack answered carefully.

"Coward."

"Puppy dog."

"Hey, knock it off," Scarlette told them. She looked worried as well. Jones gave a great burst of laughter, whirling his glittering weaponry like an overly enthused salad shooter.

"We can't fight him here," Elizabeth spoke, looking around at the trees. "There isn't room enough for us. He'll have the advantage."

"Last one into the stream is a rotten scungili," Scarlette smirked, jumping back into the water. Jack followed without question. Angel, seeing Scarlette and Jack float away on the current sighed and followed as well. Elizabeth and Will clasped hands and jumped in together. Dacor dove in, leaving Sao Feng on the bank to stare at Davy Jones.

"Have you stayed to change your fate as well, Howling Wind?" Davy Jones sneered.

"My fate will be what it is whether I will it so or not," he smiled gently. "This encounter with the blades is not my fate that is being changed. Your current adversary may be Jack Sparrow, but what power does he have on his side, Davy Jones? Who has thrown their hand to Jack's pile? Do you hold enough aces to counter him?"

"It is not Jack Sparrow that has fouled me so," Jones growled. "But his woman."

"Is she not one of his many cards to play?" Sao Feng asked, still smiling, his long beard moving in the wind slightly.

"Nay," Jones growled. "She is not a weapon to make use of. She has proven that today. In all the hundreds, perhaps thousands of years I have captained _The Flying Dutchman_, no one has been able to resist to compulsion that came with crewing my ship."

"I think Ryoko would agree, that she is not anyone's weapon to brandish," Sao Feng answered. "However, she gives her allegiance not to those who force it, but to those who earn it."

"She made a deal with me to save that wretch of hers and she will pay her price, as will he," Jones gargled. "I let no mortal go without paying their debts."

"Perhaps that is not your call to make," Sao Feng told him. "When our blades pierce your flesh and you see why this has happened, perhaps you should review your choices."

Jones blinked. "I saw her … Skadi. Has she sent you to destroy me?" His voice sounded saddened. Had the frigid ice giantess meant that much to him?

"She is one of many that have commissioned us to end your reign over the sea," Sao Feng answered affirmatively.

"Did Calypso … was she a part of this?"

Sao Feng's eyes narrowed and he looked at the blue blade in Jones' hand. "She does not aid us to _my_ knowledge. Why do you care?"

Jones erupted, breaking things all around in anger. "They cannot take this away from me! I will see all of you in irons. Death is too good for those who would serve them to kill me. I will have all your souls for this." Water was dancing on the ground, growing into deeper and deeper puddles as Jones' anger grew.

Sao Feng found that this was probably the best time to leave. He slipped into the stream and floated swiftly away as Davy Jones destroyed more of the jungle.

He knew the moment when Jones decided to follow them. The stream that had been about five feet deep suddenly flowed faster and a wash of water hit Sao Feng from behind. He decided the once docile stream was probably a danger now. He turned his feet forward to ward off any rocks that might be in the way. Luckily, he didn't meet any. There was plenty of debris in the stream floating along with him.

The stream eventually emptied out into the ocean and after a short swim, he had joined the others on the beach. They were all glaring out at a ship. Beckett was in a rowboat and halfway to the other ship at that point. He floated off shore and leered at them, holding up the chest and smirking.

Scarlette had spent the last few minutes shouting obscenities at him. Jack had watched with rather heavy lidded eyes. There were two choices, neither of which seemed probable. Getting the chest was dangerous. Dacor was the only one who could swim out that far. Scarlette had been so long on _the Dutchman_ that she'd forgotten to hold her breath in the stream and had been coughing up water while swimming along. Apparently, her Lyandize magic didn't work the same way as Dacor's. She'd never fully transformed into either the wolf or the mermaid and apparently she couldn't tap into all the benefits until she chose a form.

The second choice was to kill Jones before Beckett could use the heart as leverage to bring Jones to do his bidding. This seemed like the only option, as Beckett was too far out in the water.

Sao Feng watched them for a moment. Scarlette was throwing rocks out at Beckett now. Elizabeth had joined her and they both shouted out at the East India official, Elizabeth's voice a screech where Scarlette's was more a horn blast.

"I don't see how yelling at him and threatening his life with sharp rocks is going to get him to come to shore," Dacor pointed out to them.

"It sure is making me feel better," Scarlette growled, her canines still a little long. Angel smiled every time she showed some wolfish potential. She threw a rock particularly hard and with her augmented strength, she scored a hit, almost. It hit the chest and bounced off, nailing Beckett right in the forehead. He bled freely after that and he glared at the beach as the blood ran to one side and nearly blinded his right eye.

"He is on his way," Sao Feng spoke up, making everyone turn to him. He looked back at the stream that had turned into a torrent of water, pouring ferociously into the sea. A particularly large wave rolled into the ocean and the sea gave a sigh, the tide pulling out, leaving the sand for yards dark and wet.

Jack, Sao Feng, and Dacor started yelling and running back towards the jungle. Angel and Will stood for a moment, trying to understand what the others were yelling about so frantically.

Scarlette's eyes grew wide as she watched the water recede. She grabbed Elizabeth and broke for the jungle. Elizabeth felt the urgency and did not struggle, running alongside Scarlette.

The girls passed Angel and Will and Scarlette yelled at them in passing. "Run, you idiots, unless you want to drown!" Angel and Will didn't ask questions. They followed and finally caught up to the women. They kept running through the trees until they got to Jack and the others. Out of breath and terrified, Elizabeth asked the question.

"What's happening?"

Jack pointed to the ground. "Wolf boy, cut a long deep furrow in the ground. Make it at least twenty feet wide and that deep as well and do it quickly."

Angel did as he was told, using the sword to swipe out the earth in great chunks, talking the entire time. "I have a name, pirate. Why am I doing this?" There was a great trough now and Angel came over to their side of it.

"Just find a tree to climb," Jack told him. Angel looked up at the others, who had all taken to the trees. He sheathed his blade and used claws to scurry up a tree.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Look," Scarlette pointed. The water had begun to curl. Beckett was luckily far out enough to escape the mini tsunami that Jones was creating but those on shore were not so lucky.

The great wall of water seemed to pick up speed, rushing over the sand and beginning to crash through the jungle, closer and closer to their position. Trees bent and plants uprooted … rocks tearing through the ground. The water sloshed over the edge of the pit Angel had dug and filled it quickly, rushing about to climb up the tree trunks as well, lapping at the feet of those in their leafy sanctuaries.

The water slowly returned to the sea and Jones stood on the beach, beckoning them to battle.

The seven chosen vacated their trees and walked towards him, almost in a line. Jack, the pirate, with the blade of fire, _Kuroi-agohige_ … Sao Feng, the warrior, with the blade of wind, _Nigiyaki-ten'ki_ … Elizabeth, the lady, with the blade of ice, _Fuyu-asa_ … Angel, the wolf, with the blade of earth, _Tekagi-fukku_ … Dacor, the merman, with the blade of energy, _Kazuchi-on'gaku_ … Will, the blacksmith, with the blade of light, _Shiroi-amari_ … and Scarlette, the necromancer, with the blade of darkness, _Shizuka-shini_.

And Davy Jones, the god, with the blade of water, _Aoi-rozuka_, waited patiently for them on the beach.

They all stopped on the wet sand, maybe fifteen feet from him, their faces serious, and their respective weapons naked in their hands.

Davy Jones laughed, his short guffaws still arrogant. "You seek to kill me?"

It seemed like a rhetorical question, so no one answered, but Jack brought his weapon down to a more ready stance. The others followed suit, readying their weapons in a ripple that traveled through the line until it reached Scarlette.

Jones laughed again. "I see you are serious about trying this foolish deed. If there was anything I could do to persuade you not to toss your lives away for someone else's cause, would you tell me?"

"We have our own reasons for wanting you dead," Elizabeth snapped at him. "Do not assume we work at the whims of others who wish the same."

"For once, I completely and whole heartedly agree with you," Jack supported her.

"Well, then, Jack Sparrow," Jones called out. "This nonsense can be avoided if you and that wild woman you call your wife come willingly back onto my ship and serve your fate that you yourselves have wrought."

"I will not willingly return to that hell hole," Scarlette answered for herself.

"You know me, mate," Jack smirked. "I've been running from you for years. Do you expect me to surrender my soul to you now after all that hard work?"

"Then you will all come with me back to the abyss," Jones gripped _Aoi-rozuka_ and whirled his other blades. "The seven of you will replace the twenty men you've managed to kill today. You all seem to be much more exotic and will be valuable assets to my ship, once cured of your rebellion."

He swung his sword then and in the last light of day, rain began to fall without a cloud in the sky. The already wet sand absorbed the water and made everyone's steps a little sluggish.

The next few paragraphs detailing everyone's movements happened in such rapid succession that they were nearly simultaneous. It was much like the ripple effect of the sword movements before however, the reaction time for Davy Jones in this nearly simultaneous effort to kill him might lend understanding to his battling capabilities.

Jack, knowing he might die, decided that he would not be the last one into battle. He charged forward, bringing his sword down towards Jones. Fire rained from the sky, falling in glittering splashes of flame, like brimstone hail. Jones blocked the blade of fire with the water sword only to be swept by the wind of Sao Feng. The awesome force of the wind blew the water and fire all about and tore at everyone's clothing. His blade was parried by one of the beard weapons.

Elizabeth gave a shout worthy of any Amazon warrior and swung her dainty looking blade, sending sharpened pieces of ice down on Jones as her blade nearly bit into his shoulder. A tentacle blocked her at the last moment but her sword transferred its icy breath to his dagger. The blade froze to his beard with the coldness and he gave a grunt of irritation.

Angel swung his sword, two handed as one would in kendo and the earth around Jones trembled. A large spike shot up behind the captain and somewhat limited his movement. The earthen blade was blocked by another of Jones' swords.

Dacor's weapon was not as easily blocked because he had the choice of using it as a staff or a spear. He charged forward after Angel, calling forth lightning to add to the storm of fire, wind, water, ice, and chunks of earth and rock. He used his staff, whirling about, three attacks blocked by Jones, who seemed able to concentrate on all of them. He stabbed forward, using the spearhead at the end of the weapon to try and skewer Jones, but the mighty captain closed his claw over the tip of it and held it fast.

Will ran forward, swinging his weapon and sending short blasts of light flying towards Jones, almost like lasers. If Jones had been any sort of game character, his ranged defense would have been up the wazoo, as Tony might have put it. He deflected the light shards and they bounced off in random directions. Will tried hitting him as well, being something of a master swordsman, but the element of the blade was uncomfortable with the growing darkness.

Scarlette's weapon, however, was increasing in power by the second with the coming night. She was not happy at being the last to war, but raged toward her target, bringing a wave of blackness behind her that enveloped Jones and melted into him, draining his energy into the sword. She swung her blade at his head and was met with the water blade.

Now, looking at the timeline, Jack's attack was blocked with _Aoi-rozuka_ … and before Jack was able to attack again, Scarlette's blade was blocked with the same weapon. Davy Jones was fast enough to block Jack, parry the other five people, move the first sword to guard from Scarlette, all before Jack, the first attacker, was able to make his next move. Jack for all his unpredictability was not a slow swordsman.

The battle progressed at that speed, with hail, fire, and all manner of elemental goodies falling from the sky. Night fell with a clang and Will was left drawing power from the stars and the rising moon.

On the other side of the island, the shifters, Lyandize, Chinese crewman, and _the Pearl_'s refugees watched the brilliant display. Gibbs and Bootstrap had managed to make their way to their comrades, as had Heather and Robin.

The remainder of _the Dutchman_ crew watched as well, not knowing whether to cheer for their captain or their captors.

Unorna, Libussa, Makeo, and Ruby stood by Tia Dalma as she mixed up a batch of something she insisted they would need and commented on the elemental display.

The gods watched from afar, well out of danger, and speculated, taking bets on the mortals below.

Beckett sat in his dory and shivered. He had lost his oars when the water swelled so suddenly beneath him. He watched the despicable pirates and company fight Jones and was growing impatient. His eyebrow ached and part of his face was covered in blood thanks to the rock Scarlette had thrown.

He took out the key and looked at its double prongs. Studying the seal on the chest, he fitted the key into the lock. It slipped in with a rusty grinding sound and the lock turned as if it had been well oiled.

The chest depressurized and the lattice machinery inside popped open. Beckett carefully lifted the lid and looked inside, nearly losing his lunch over the side of the small boat. There was indeed a heart inside the chest, along with about a pint of blood. The heart was a large one, pumping completely dependently of the body it had once inhabited. Small spurts of blood dropped out of its valves with each movement, as if it took what it could from the chest and circulated that endlessly.

Beckett could not look at it much longer. He shut the lid and checked the progress on the beach.

Jones was parrying so much he hardly had time to attack. His rainwater was making his opponents slip, yes, but there were seven of them, and only one of him, regardless of his working limbs.

He suddenly gave a surge, and the waves flowed forward, knocking back a few of his opponents. Elizabeth, Will, Angel, and of course, Dacor fell prey to the water, leaving the seasoned pirates to fend off the tentacle covered Jones. Jack and Scarlette swung in tandem and Jones used the opportunity to block both of them with his beard, and attack with the sword. His blade bit into Jack's hip and Sao Feng brought his weapon to play hard enough to make Jones not finish that particular swing.

Jack staggered back a bit, his leg bleeding profusely. Scarlette, distracted by his wound, lost a few seconds and suffered the claw for her troubles. It closed on her left wrist, crushing it in one motion. She finally screamed. Nothing hurt like broken bones.

The others returned to the battle and strange things started happening. Scarlette and Jack's blood had made it into the water. There were things that moved in the deep that came to the call of such potencies as blood.

Angel landed the first blow on Jones, punching forward with his sword and breaking through the defense of the beard. _Tekagi-fukku_ went through Jones nicely but the sea captain just laughed. Angel gawked, his blade through where Jones' heart should have been.

"There's nothing left there to beat, boy," he wrenched himself backwards, obviously in pain, but otherwise, unhurt.

Scarlette shouted in anger, cradled around her hand and the black powers of the sword swooped outward. The bird's foot on Jack's belt flexed and moved as if had life in it, making him jump into the air and tear it away. Fish and crabs of all assortments that had died on the beach after Jones' tidal wave flopped and crawled with life as if they had never lost their shine.

Her eyes burned with the blackness from below and her hair lifted in waves of darkness created by either her own power or the sword's. The sight of her going berserk was enough to distract Davy Jones enough for the next blow to be put to him. It was Sao Feng this time who broke through the defenses. He lopped off two of the blade wielding tentacles, leaving Jones with seven weapons against seven people.

Jack was limping and growing weaker from blood loss even as the rage of the sword pushed him onwards. Crabs and fish danced around him, wanting the blood running down his leg. Scarlette gave another howl of power and the dead things went still. Jack felt his blood slow and he spared a moment to look down. His wound had closed partially. He looked at Scarlette, who was flexing her hand. She cringed with each flex, showing that she had not fully healed it. Somehow, Jack was connected enough to her in that moment to have had a sharing in her healing.

Jones shouted and stabbed forward, three of his daggers going into Angel's torso, even as he blocked Sao Feng with the sword, Elizabeth and Will with the remaining daggers, and Dacor with the claw. The wolf cried out, his anguished shout ending in a long howl.

Will switched directions and stabbed _Shiroi-amari_ into Jones' leg so deep he grated on bone. The captain cried out and swung his claw at Will, scraping a long gash across his shoulder as he struggled to free his sword from Jones' leg.

Beckett was not reacting to the scene on the beach very well. After the shock of being tossed around in the wheel, flung down a stream, and hit in the head with a rock, he'd been feeling a little under the elements. Now, with the magic thick in the air and the heart bare to the wind, he could handle no more. He found himself very susceptible to the magic of the swords, even from his place at sea. He had vomited and that had left him with his senses sort of hyper focused. He could almost taste the blood of those on shore and he spat with the feeling of it. As much as he loathed the idea of drawing attention to himself, he couldn't get to his ship or to shore unless the sea chose to take him there. Since Davy Jones and the sea were synonymous in most conversations, he used the only method of action he could. Yes, blackmail was the way to go if one was stranded and had nothing to lose.

"I have the heart of Davy Jones right here in this boat," Beckett shouted out. "I will destroy it if my needs are not met!"

The battle continued. Either they couldn't hear him, or they were ignoring him. "Did you hear me? I said I will destroy it! I will do it. I do not bluff!" The last was a lie of course but judging by their actions he surmised that they could not hear him. He sighed and leaned forward, paddling shore wise, using his arms in lee of the oars.

Scarlette had finally recovered from her broken wrist and shot forward in a cloud of black smoke, hiding her actions from Jones. Her blade took him high in the abdomen, but she suffered for it. He thrashed out with his claw and caught her across the face. She faltered, falling to the sand as she tried to bring back her weapon, blinded by her own blood on one side.

She was saved by a most unexpected person. Elizabeth parried Jones' claw and threw back the arm, slicing outward to cut a line under Jones' lip. She was shoved back by another wave that washed over those on the ground already and attempted to drag them into the sea.

It wasn't the ocean that pulled at them, however … or at least not only the waves of the sea. Scarlette, Elizabeth, and Dacor had been seized by tree trunk thick tentacles. The girls cut the things holding them easily but Dacor was left to stabbing a few times before the kraken decided he was too dangerous to eat.

Elizabeth and Scarlette climbed out of the ocean and Dacor pulled himself out as well. Elizabeth stuck her sword into the waves and froze those closest to shore, creating a sort of safe zone. Beckett was still beyond the ice, paddling along.

"I have your blasted heart Jones!" He shouted in an exhausted way, as if he had been running for a long while. Paddling the boat with his arms had been harder than he imagined. "You will cease these petty squabbles and grant me an audience, or I will destroy it."

What Beckett called 'petty squabbles' was very much life and death for those on shore. Just whose life or death remained to be seen. Jones had turned slightly at Beckett's call and managed to dodge Scarlette and Elizabeth's joint attack from behind. He grabbed Elizabeth's neck with his claw and was seconds away from tearing her throat out. Scarlette wedged her blade in his elbow, the steel grating on the bones, and began siphoning him. He released Elizabeth and threw Scarlette off, shaking his arm as he parried and reposted several of the other attacks made by the men.

"Goddamn you, Davy Jones!" Beckett shouted, which in another time-period might have been seen as a rather funny exclamation. "Shall I kill you before you can be destroyed by these remorseless ingrates or you will stop these struggles and come to me!"

Jones shouted out to him. "I bow to no mortal, man or woman, you silly creature." There was a scrape of metal and a cry from Sao Feng as his blade slipped against Jones and he was rewarded with a clawed backhand.

"But I have your heart," Beckett sneered. "And I will not hesitate to destroy it, along with you."

Jones shoved everyone backwards with a wash of water from the sword and he picked up one of his fallen tentacles. He turned towards Beckett and threw the tentacle, blade and all, at the man in the boat.

The dagger stabbed through a hand Beckett had brought up to ward off an attack and the proper man cried out in pain. He pulled the dagger out, letting it fall into the sea, along with his blood. He looked up at Jones with rage-filled eyes as the captain continued to battle on land.

"You will pay for that, Jones," he whispered heatedly.

Beckett opened up the chest and reached inside for the heart, ignoring the horrible feeling in his stomach as his bloody fingers closed on the still working muscle.

Beckett swallowed his rising bile and gripped the heart, standing in the small boat. He raised the heart over his head. "I will stab this heart, and you will die, Jones! You had best get rid of them and come join me. There is only death for you elsewhere."

"If you really wanted to kill me, you would have done so by now," Jones snapped at him, looking back for a moment. It was finally a move the others could use against him. Jack thrust the fiery blade into the throat of Davy Jones until he felt the tip of it exit. Jones looked back in horror and pain. He swung his own sword, skewered as he was, the blade grating down Jack's right side, making the pirate shout and move away, holding _Kuroi-agohige_ with only one hand.

Scarlette added her blade to the other side of Jones' neck while the captain was distracted. Elizabeth and Will followed suit, burying their blades into his chest, aiming not for his 'heart', but his lungs. Jones made a hacking sound that made pneumonia sound healthy.

Angel and Sao Feng tore apart his stomach with their own weapons and Dacor, finally gaining his legs again, reared up, jabbing the point of his spear into the skull of Davy Jones.

The air crackled with the heat of lightning and fire and the water on the beach froze, making the ground slick. Spikes of earth roared up from the depths of hell and small wisps of light floated about as the blackness overtook everything. The wind screamed throughout, making anything that was not tied down flap in its torrent.

Davy Jones gave one last sigh as he tried at least to take someone out with him. His blade, acting more of its own accord, swiped a line across the seven warriors as he finally died.

They all fell back, various wounds appearing on their person. The elements continued to crackle, flare, and shimmer about in their shared glory.

"No!" Beckett shouted, throwing the heart into the sea and making the boat rock crazily. "You … you _imbeciles_! Have you any idea of what you have done? I would have pardoned all of you if you had only worked with me against the black trade that is piracy. No, you had to go and have your little adventure, you bastards. I hope your wounds kill you. Bleed to death on your uninhabited island or be eaten by that creature."

The boat was rocking quite a bit with his fury, and his hand was still bleeding. There had been no sharks in the water, no … they had been smarter than to enter a territory occupied by bigger fish … much bigger.

The kraken had been originally attracted to that particular place because of Beckett's splashing about but had been well distracted by the power display on shore. Now, that display was no more, and Beckett was making a fool of himself, and a meal as well, it seemed.

The seven on shore backed up quickly when the kraken rose, enveloping the small boat in one gulp. The last thing they heard of Beckett was an earsplitting scream and a loud crunch as his bones were crushed between the planks of the boat, caught in the swallowing mechanism of the kraken.

Scarlette and Elizabeth fell to the sand in exhaustion. Dacor and Will sat as well. Angel, and Sao Feng stood, each warriors in their own right. Jack was hunched but he eyed the waves with a growing dislike. He looked over at the others and chose the one he knew would understand the situation. The look on her face showed she was already worrying about it.

He limped over to Scarlette and held his hand out. "We're not done yet."

She took his hand and allowed him to lead her forward. "What can _I _do to help? Darkness is nothing to a creature that spends most of its time underwater."

He picked up the fallen sea god's sword and handed it to her. "You're the only one who has used this blade. It'll recognize you better than any of us."

Scarlette took _Aoi-rozuka_ once more and waded into the water alongside Jack. She drove the blade into the sea and with a shove of power, she rocked back the waves. Beckett's ship was enveloped and destroyed as the sea peeled backwards, the kraken going a bit wild. As _The Endeavour_ vanished, the water kept receding. The kraken was left on the floor of the ocean, without its insulation, bits of wreckage surrounding it. The heart was nowhere to be seen.

"Hold it out there," Jack commanded, running towards the monster, his sword blazing. The others had stood then and run forward. Jack's blade bit into the kraken and he shouted, sending all the rage and heat of the blade into the beast. It erupted into flame and screeched loudly. He stepped back, walking towards Scarlette as the others raced forward to give their regards to the tentacle-clad monster.

Angel drove his sword into the ground beside the beast and earth spikes rose from the floor beneath it, creating large holes in its body. Elizabeth followed up with a similar attack from above, the ice biting through its body and melting in the fire. Dacor zapped it until its flesh was black. Sao Feng fueled the fire and soon the kraken was nothing but a flaming mess.

Scarlette stood, straining against the water with nothing but her will and the sword, yards away from the wall of ocean she held back. Will had stopped by her side, knowing that like she, his weapon could not harm the kraken enough to kill it. Jack had come to stand on her other side.

The others quickly moved backwards to where she stood, watching the kraken, now dead, burn to ashes. Scarlette slowly brought the water sword out of the sand she had embedded it into and the water returned, slowly. It moved quickly, but not as fast as the tidal wave had. As the water rushed forward, Elizabeth, Angel, Dacor, and Sao Feng backed away. Sao Feng was the first to step back, knowing that Jack would have moved had there been danger, or perhaps he was honoring Scarlette's struggle with the sea by stepping back.

Elizabeth stepped up to touch Will's back, knowing that if he could face those moving waves, she would not leave him alone to do it.

Angel finally found a place in his mind where Jack had not lost ground and he too came back, if only to prove he was not a coward.

Dacor, in no real danger, was the last to return to the side of the humans. The waves came all the way up and stopped, just lapping around their feet. There was no danger. Scarlette pulled the sword out the rest of the way and sighed.

There was a pop and a flash of purple light. Everyone turned to see what it had been. The trees' leaves about were on fire, illuminating the beach, but it seemed controlled. Tia Dalma had been the source of the light. She smiled at them, her sisters and company following close behind, each with a small urn in their hands.

"Will de wounded please come here," she spoke softly, looking at them in turn. I will see to dese two firs'." She pointed at Jack and Angel.

Scarlette sat and waited and was surprised when Ruby came to her. "Are you hurt?"

"A little," she answered as the blonde sat before her. "My hand … it's still kind of broken, but I don't see how that will help at all.

Ruby took her left hand and covered it in the salve within the urn. The pain disappeared and the mangled look Scarlette's hand had, had slowly begun to heal. Her eyes were wide and she jumped when she heard Jack yelp.

She moved to where Tia Dalma was applying the miracle salve to Jack's side. Scarlette cried out when she saw the mess the last blow had made of Jack. There was a gash across his chest that showed bone. Tia Dalma was quickly applying the salve and clucking away that he would live.

"Barely," Jack hissed. It was not the salve that hurt, but the pressure needed to apply it to his wet body. Angel was in a similar condition, the three wounds in his torso showing the inner workings of a body.

He caught Scarlette looking at his wounds and shrugged. "They'll heal … not as quickly as this spiffy stuff will heal them, of course. Don't tell me you're worried?"

"Why should I not be worried?" she asked him.

He snorted. "You ran to him first … your eyes hold something for him that they do not for me."

"I still worry about you," she answered. "You are my friend … sort of."

"Friendship," he snorted and looked away. "Friendship will not keep me warm at night."

Scarlette sighed and flinched as Ruby started applying salve to her face and collarbone. The face wound was from Jones' claw, the collarbone from his final blow. She looked down and felt that her hand was entwined in Jack's hair. She smiled slightly and remembered that she had some feelings to smooth over. Jack was looking up at her with a sort of pleased expression on his face, despite the fact that he was wounded.

"Angel," she spoke to the wolf. "Thank you for helping without … asking for anything in return, especially things I cannot give."

"It is my job to protect the one I deem worthy," Angel answered. "Think nothing of it, Ryoko." Tia Dalma moved on to him and he sat, obstinately not wincing as she applied the salve. When she had finished, he stood, the wounds closing before her eyes.

"I will go back to New York now," he told her, not looking down to where she sat. "I would wait forever, but I do not have that long, so I won't." The bracelet around her wrist unbuckled itself and fell off. She picked it up and studied it for a moment.

"I'm sorry," she handed it to him. "But I am glad you have chosen to move on. I am not the one you want anyway." She smiled at him and he finally met her eyes.

"You are," he said finally and started walking inland, carrying _Tekagi-fukku_ with him.

Sao Feng, his wounds tended to, stood as well. "I think I will return home as well." He hefted the sword of wind, _Nigiyaki-ten'ki_. "This is better suited to me. If the gods return, give them the sword of fire, and my regards, should they want either." He looked down at Scarlette. Jack sat up and regarded him warily. "I will see you again, no doubt. Farewell." He vanished into the darkness.

Not long after they had gone, there were several flashes of light and the gods appeared once again.

"Well done, my lovelies," Zeus commented with open arms. "You have slain Davy Jones, and as an extra, bacon frittered the kraken. We've really been meaning to take care of that particular pest for years but all the good heroes died."

"According to Greek mythology, Perseus killed the kraken, to rescue Ariadne," Scarlette answered. "But in the movie version of that story, the kraken was more like a giant person, almost like Godzilla, or King Kong."

"Actually, Perseus rescued _Andromeda_," Zeus answered. "I do not know about the rest. Perseus was able to turn the kraken to stone. It was not certain that he had killed it. Poseidon later managed to bring it back from its frozen state using mermaid's tears."

"Well, damn," Scarlette growled. "Ariadne, Andromeda, Andromache … there are too many of those names to keep track of."

Jack laughed. "Finally, some part of mythology at which you're not perfect in your knowledge."

"Shut your mouth," she told him in a violent but affectionate way.

"All this story telling is very nice," Ares growled. "But I do not think I am the only one who grows impatient."

"I bet I can guess your name," Scarlette muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing important," she smiled at him.

"You must have some gift for defeating Njord," Skadi cut in, trying to lessen the blazing stare her fiery companion was giving. "Each of us will gift you. I must take back my weapon but I give to you, Elizabeth, the call of winter. You may have snow whenever you wish it, as you live in a region that never sees such things."

Elizabeth nodded with a smile. She hadn't seen snow since she had left England when she was eight.

Ares was next. "You can have the sword. I've been forbidden from using it for … anger management reasons."

"He's not allowed because every time he gets drunk he goes and burns up the South Pole," Hermes stage whispered.

"Shut your mouth," the war god yelled.

Zeus pointed at Dacor. "I must also have back the weapon but I give you power to keep your legs when you need them, even if they happen to get wet. You control the change now, my friend." Dacor nodded and let the weapon go. It vanished and appeared in Zeus' hand.

Hermes shrugged. "My weapon is not here, nor is my warrior."

Jack started laughing. "Here's an idea. I give you this lovely sword, and you send a pile of gold over to ol' Sao Feng with a note attached, 'from Jack'. He'll get a nice gift, I'll be free of debt, and you'll end up with a sword, not the one you parted with, but still pretty nice."

Hermes thought on it. "Sure, why not." He took the blade of fire from Jack and it vanished, as if into an invisible pocket.

Hades took back the black sword and looked at Scarlette in thought for a moment. "Well, you can already raise the dead … I grant you three true resurrections. Just tell me who you want back, and I'll bring them back."

Scarlette was slightly shocked at such a powerful gift. "Do I get any time to think about it?"

He shrugged. "You've got until the others give their gifts."

Apollo stepped forward and took Will's sword without a thought. "You will always have light when you need it, no lantern or match required. Just snap your fingers and it will be there."

Will nodded and stepped back to put an arm around Elizabeth.

"Anamaria," Scarlette spoke. "She's my first choice."

"Done." Hades spoke. Anamaria appeared on the sand in her old sailor's clothing, shaking her head and blinking in confusion.

"Where is my chosen?" Demeter asked, looking about. "He keeps his weapon as well, but I cannot gift him if he is not here."

"Sure you can," Scarlette smiled. "Send him a woman. Someone who is strong and capable and doesn't need a man to help her do anything. Make sure she likes wolves. It might help if she was pretty, too."

Demeter frowned. "I don't know if I can do all that."

"Talk to Aphrodite," Hermes patted her on the back. "She might be able to help."

"Can I bring back all that died on _The Necromancer_?" Scarlette asked suddenly. Hades shook his head.

"They were sinking when _the Dutchman_ crew boarded. They would have died anyway. If he had forced you to slay them all, I would grant this, but there is no saving them from a doomed fate."

"Fine," she answered. "Then bring Norrington back, so he can fix this mess and clear everyone's names now that Beckett is kraken bait."

"Done," a blinking Norrington in the odd clothing sat next to the now slightly more aware Anamaria. He looked around and frowned.

"And for your third?" Hades asked.

Scarlette frowned and finally answered. "Kami. She died by accident, and willingly as well."

"All right," Hades smirked. Kami landed beside Norrington and a startled Morgan sat beside her. Kami looked exceptionally confused.

"Hey," Hades growled. "You cheated."

She fought not to say 'pirate', but someone said it for her. She looked at Jack and he smirked. "Couldn't resist, mate."

"I didn't mean to cheat you," she told the slightly miffed god. "I forgot that those two were tied by blood. Please don't make me choose between them."

"I won't," he answered. "But only because I know you really didn't remember."

"And now, we must go. Thank you for all your help." Zeus moved to leave but

Scarlette interrupted. "Wait! What about _Aoi-rozuka_?"

The gods looked down at the blue sword and all nodded. Hades spoke, since she had been his champion.

"Why don't you keep it? Maybe it will be used for something other than trapping souls." All the gods seemed to agree and Scarlette did not refuse, though she planned to lock it below in the holds of _the Pearl_.

The gods gave a few words of farewell and disappeared. The fires of the leafy treetops were nearly out and Will decided to try out his new trick. He snapped and there was light enough to see by.

The four resurrected members of the little party moved closer to everyone and asked rapid questions. At the end of the conversation, Anamaria decided to retire and stay in Tortuga for a while, Norrington agreed to clear everyone's names, Kami just wanted to go home, and Morgan … well, Morgan wanted his ship back.

"Your ship sunk," Scarlette told him. "I watched it happen … hell, I was _on_ the damn thing when all but its bow was underwater."

"Well, what am I supposed to do now?"

Tia Dalma spoke up. "You can come back to de bayou wid me. Dere be lots o' tings I be wantin' to see about wid your powers."

"Yes! Come on, Morgan," Ruby whined. "At least it's something to do until you figure something else out."

Morgan moped. "I guess."

"If I am expected to clear your names," Norrington grunted. "I must know all that ensued. It's not like I was watching, you know."

"Well, we managed to make a seven way kebob out of ol' Davy Jones and have a grand fish fry with the kraken who, moments before, made quite the meal out of _The Endeavour_ and one EITC chairman we all know and love … to hate."

Norrington's mouth opened in a somewhat stunned expression. "And what am I supposed to tell them? How can I come up with something that will cover _The Endeavour_ vanishing?"

"That's not my department, luckily," Jack smirked. "You're the Commodore."

"I don't see why he can't tell them the truth, leaving us well out of it," Scarlette shrugged, stretching her arms and yawning. "Either way, I'm too tired to think about it anymore."

With that all settled and done with, the survivors of that night's adventures went to sleep.

…**.**

Yeesh, and so is the author. 4:43 am, May 16th, 2007. How's that for a fight scene? I'm never doing another one. Twenty pages is way too long for a fight. Goodnight everyone. See ya next chapter.

Although, funny little coincidence here. I brought in these Greek gods, and my friend comes home the next day with God of War II, which I am romping the crap out of right now. I wrote this chapter on the 16th, early morning, and later that day, around maybe 9 pm, I killed the kraken in the game. It was almost the same as the PotC; DMC kraken … bu not quite. I had to do some research to be sure it wasn't Scylla or Charybdis … The GoW people have adapted some of the more well known mythological creatures, like the gorgons. There were only supposed to be the three … and two of them were immortal.

And the minotaur was a single beast, however, one can expect to kill around thirty of them throughout both games.

This game rocks. My thumbs are up.


	25. Chapter XXIV: Loose Ends

How about a no intro chapter? Yeah, that sounds good.

**Chapter XXIV – Loose Ends, Godly Inheritance**

The sun rose on the island and a large bird found its duty in waking everyone up by pecking at the bell within the ruins.

It was an old bell that resonated loudly, but due to a crack, two pitches clashed against each other, waking up some of the more musically inclined first. Scarlette sat up with a groan, yelling about sharps and flats. Everyone else just stared at her until she mumbled something about a dream and sat looking cross.

"Well, might as well round everyone up," Jack rose with a groan. His body still ached with its newly healed wounds and every step was a torment all on its own. Scarlette and the others were in a similar condition.

As they were brushing the sand off their clothing, a red headed figure rose from the sea and strode to them, a purpose in mind. Dacor nodded to his High Chieftain and Joste acknowledged him with his own miniscule nod.

"Hi," Scarlette spoke nervously. The last time she had run into this particular merman, he had tried to change her form. "May we help you?"

"I have come to thank you for ending the war," he answered. "When Davy Jones and the dhaka were killed, all the sea people felt their freedom come to them and the need to rejoice as one was imminent. We ceased our war and clasped hands instead."

"Well, you are welcome then," Elizabeth answered. Scarlette was blushing in the light of day and didn't seem able to respond.

"Did we just happen to accidentally fix everything?" Scarlette asked as Joste and Dacor exchanged meaningful stares. The other Lyandize appeared, drawn to their leader's powers.

"That's how it seems to work around here," Will answered, his voice a little bored.

"We must leave you now," Dacor told them. "If you need any help, you need not look too far."

"It's hard to look underwater," Scarlette pointed out.

"Not if you can swim and breathe under it," Raare pointed out, laughing. The Lyandize went back to the sea. As they turned into their aquatic selves, two other well-known merfolk appeared. David climbed out of the sea, with a little Lenore hanging onto his hand.

"Well, this is just the day for reunions," Makeo snorted. "We'd better find the rest of your friends before many more people climb from the sea."

Norrington looked a little nervous. "Just how many of you am I going to need to clear?"

"Just about everyone," Jack answered. "Beckett had us all framed for your murder, or did you forget that part."

"I've been dead for a little over two months," he answered. "When you can boast the same, then tell me how much you remember."

"Hey, quit your bitching and let's get back to _the_ _Pearl _and the others so we can take stock of what and who needs help before departure," Scarlette ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," Makeo saluted her. Will laughed and put his arm about Elizabeth, leading her in the direction of _the Pearl_, though he had arrived by Lyandize escort. They all moved along towards the dark ship.

On the way, they were joined by a group of shifters, led by Angel and Edward. _The Pearl_'s stragglers were with them and Lizzy ran to David, hugging both her man and her child. Sean, Tony, Ragetti, and Pintel mobbed Scarlette, Will, and Makeo, their ship mates for the New York mission. Gibbs and Bootstrap were tended to by the voodoo sisters.

Afterwards, Bootstrap, Jack, and Scarlette had a moment of eye contact. The older man laughed and clapped them on the shoulders. "We're all alive. I never would have imagined that we'd make it."

"That is because you, my friend, are a pessimistic old barnacle," Jack told him. He continued to talk as _the Pearl _crew all exclaimed at their luck at being alive. Scarlette looked around and noticed that the shifters were leaving. She followed them a ways, calling out to Angel as the others headed toward their own ship.

He stopped and barely looked over his shoulder, his long wine red hair tangled from the seawater. "Did you need something?"

He sounded so cold, Scarlette was taken aback slightly. She frowned and marched up to him, putting a hand on his arm. He turned around to face her finally and did not look happy.

"I just wanted to say goodbye," she answered uncertainly. "You didn't really give me a chance, last night."

"Why should you want to wish me a well goodbye?" he asked, sounding as angry as he looked.

She smirked and an eyebrow went up. "You really are more difficult than you think, you know?"

He looked confused at that and she stepped up to him. She smiled and refused to back down from his tall stature. "Goodbye, Angel." She hugged him around the waist and turned, walking away. She didn't look back and after a while, Angel turned and walked in his own direction.

Scarlette rejoined _the Pearl_'s party and followed them up finally to set eyes on the ship she had been dragged from almost a month before. Nothing was prettier than the old worn rigging of that ship and her eyes actually teared a bit. She wiped the small drops away and helped the others get _The Black Pearl_ back into the water.

It took a while even to get her close to the water, and finally, Scarlette used _Aoi-rozuka_ to call in enough of the sea to dislodge the great ship. Before long, everyone had boarded and they were finally off.

"What happened to the rest of _the Dutchman_'s crew?" someone had asked when a comment had been made about mummies. Robin and Claudia went into a loud and graphic description of what had happened presumably when Jones died.

"Well, first, some of them started screaming and then all the little barnacles and seaweed and stuff fell off them, leaving only their human bodies behind. Some of them looked better with all of it on," Claudia began. Robin snorted and continued.

"Then, some of the older ones, I guess, shriveled so quickly, they didn't even have time to scream. There were a few of them that merely aged and sat in the bushes weeping, a great deal older than they had been before. They begged us to kill them … no one would grant them that wish, however."

"They were taken up by the crew of _The Empress_," Heather explained. "They can't go back to their old lives, but new ones aren't totally out of the question."

"What about their families?" Will asked. Elizabeth echoed him.

Kristin shrugged. "We asked them about it … they seemed to think too much time had passed."

"Well, whatever happens, I'm sure they're better off than they were on that ship," Chelsea spoke, looking like she was in one of her 'save the _blank_' moods. Kristin had an interesting picture in her head of Chelsea petitioning _The Flying Dutchman_ for sailor cruelty. Picket lines full of barnacle-encrusted sailors made Kristin laugh. She tried explaining it, but no one else seemed to think it was remotely funny, especially not Chelsea.

"Well, what's our first stop, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked.

Jack looked about. "Well … I think we need to stop at Tortuga to pick up/drop off pirates, children, and other strange creatures. Tia Dalma, will you need us to transport you to your dark and sinister home?"

"Dere will be no need for dat, Jack Sparrow," she smiled. "I will find me own ways back to me 'ome." She caressed the arms of Ruby and Morgan. "An' I will take me prizes back wid' me."

Ruby and Makeo gave each other worried looks and their eyes searched the deck for an advocate. Jack pointedly did not look at them and for once, Scarlette took the hint and feigned ignorance as well. They found an unlikely pair of friendly voices in Will and Elizabeth, however.

"Can't you see?" Elizabeth pointed at the pair. "They love each other. Will you separate them now?"

Tia Dalma looked over and grinned her dark smile. "Oh, dey will not be broke apart. I hab ways of de travel quick. Dis one will help me in day and in de night, return to him what love her."

Ruby and Makeo were a lot happier after that. Morgan sighed and shook his head. "No one for me, I guess."

Anamaria took a threatening step forward. "Maybe 'cause you kill people." She had some serious righteous anger towards the necromantic captain.

"Hey, I said I was sorry," Morgan put his hands out in a peace giving gesture. "What can I do to prove it?"

"Shut up," Kami answered for everyone. She turned to those in charge, namely Jack. Scarlette was around as well, but Jack was commanding man on the ship and no one even wanted to take that away. "I am ready to depart to my time."

"Take these with you," Jack smirked, handing her a passel of papers. She looked at them and smiled. They were the newspaper clippings she had brought from her time.

"They turned out to be wrong, eh?" she asked.

"Turns out, if one tries hard enough, they can indeed change what was supposed to happen," Jack answered, holding a large gem in his hand. "Destiny is controlled by the individual." He tossed the gem to Scarlette, who opened her hand to find the emerald on its gold chain. She slipped it with its broken chain into her pocket instead of back around her neck and eyed Jack.

Kami was given a gate key and she gave her final farewells, vanishing without a trace. She popped back a few seconds later to let them know it had worked out all right. Finally, Kami was gone. The other future girls were sort of cooling their heels, not wanting to leave right away. They agreed that they would leave when _the Pearl _reached Port Royal, just to make sure their services wouldn't be needed to break anyone out of jail.

Sean and Tony were debating whether or not they would be returning to the future. Tia Dalma overheard their conversation and smiled, hovering about as they spoke.

"I'm serious," Tony exclaimed. "What do we have over there except college to get good at stuff we hate so we can do stuff we hate for the rest of our lives. We have retarded presidents and even dumber people who vote for the damn idiots … here, we can sail with _the Pearl_, plunder, and pillage … and all that cool stuff. I admit the threat of scurvy and dysentery is a problem but we're future guys. Our personal hygiene should be a notch up enough to take all that on, right?"

"Tony, I almost agree with you, fully, honestly I do," Sean was waving his hands. "But staying on this ship is insane! What have we run into since we came back to this time? Zombies, mermaids, dragons, cannibals, monster Uber necromantic pirates, sirens, a giant squid, a mythological sea god, and werewolves! I'm just glad there weren't any vampires to top it all off or we'd have been doomed."

"No, vampires are years out of style," Tony answered. "But isn't that all exciting? We could never tell anyone in our time about this! Dragons? Come on! No one would believe it."

"We wouldn't even get that far into it," Sean added. "We'd start with, 'So we went back in time using this vampire blood on this gold thing …' and it would be all padded rooms and stale coffee after that."

"So you've changed your mind?"

"Not really."

Tia Dalma took that moment to step up to Sean and whisper something in his ear. He paled and looked at her, a mixed expression of worry and joy on his face.

"What? What did she say?" Tony was curious. Sean's face _never_ looked like that.

"Oh … well … I guess I'm staying in this time," Sean answered. His voice was still hard to decipher. He looked happy but almost as if he were trying to figure something out.

"Well, what changed your mind?"

"Tony," Sean spoke with a completely straight face. "I'm gonna be a …"

"A what? A pirate? A monkey? A Badger with a pancreatic nose and hip injury? What?"

Sean shook his head and he grinned. "I'm gonna be a daddy."

Tony was silent for a moment. "What, with _her_?" Tony had pointed in the direction in which Tia Dalma had wandered off. Sean shook his head and whispered to Tony. "No way, man. You're not serious."

Sean laughed and moved away as Tony chased him about, trying to figure out if his friend was fibbing or not. They ran past the hatch and nearly bowled Norrington over. He watched them pass with a slight contempt for youth and moved to the railing, watching the sea. _The Empress _was well ahead of _the Pearl _but the black ship would pass her in a few hours.

Jack and Scarlette stood on the top deck, unable to really leave each others' presence. Neither would admit it but both yielded to their need to be near each other. Jack gripped the helm in one hand, his left clasped to Scarlette's right. The black spot had vanished with the death of Davy Jones and the kraken.

No one had asked about the ship, _The Flying Dutchman_, or what had happened to it when its captain ceased to be. However, later than night, long after _the Pearl_ had passed _The Empress_, a ship was spotted. It seemed far off, and no one was quite sure, but upon using the magic scope that gifted the eye with day vision, Scarlette saw the cursed sails, working as if they had their own mind. She knew that the only possible survivors of the crew were Wyvern, Manibar, and Ulysses, the three men who had been on the ship so long they had grown to be a part of it.

What had become of them when Jones died? Had they dried up as the other men had? They were each so ancient that they should have just died, but what if the magic of the ship protected them? Scarlette expressed these questions and the crew watched the ghost ship float about for a while.

"I vote we keep it a secret," Jack spoke up. Everyone agreed, though their curiosity was large. No one wanted to board that cursed ship.

The journey home was finally underway.

…**.**

The stop in Tortuga took longer than was needed, but it seemed to have been so long since anyone had been in a civilized area that they engorged themselves. When _the Pearl_ docked in port, there were several individuals waiting at shore. Kwan Lyun was pleasantly surprised when Anamaria leapt into his arms, alive and warm and no longer a zombie puppet.

The children that had run from the Company were happily reunited with their respective parents, but not without question after question of what had taken place.

Tony, Heather, Kristin, Chelsea, Ragetti, and Pintel gawked as Sean was met by a pretty bandit woman in a most friendly way. Her body language seemed to confirm Sean's story. There was no question to how Tia Dalma seemed to know about it. What she _didn't _know about the 'unknown' seemed to be a much shorter list than what she did. That didn't mean she was going to share her knowledge.

Sean opted to stay in Tortuga a while and get situated. He would join _the Pearl _however on her next round through, as a working member of the ship. Tony agreed as well to stay and he and Sean had a moment of boyish delight as they jumped up and down, chanting. "We're gonna be pirates!"

A few days later, when the voodoo sisters, Ruby, Makeo, Morgan, Sean, and Anamaria waved from the dock, _the Pearl _set out once again for Port Royal.

…**.**

It seemed like such a short voyage compared to what they'd been taking on. The three days it took to sail to Port Royal went by in a blast of flaming light.

They arrived in port around noon, when the sun was at its worst, or best depending on how much clothing one was wearing, or how hard one was working. Those two were not necessarily interchangeable.

For once in a long while, Jack took her right into port and didn't mess with the 'back' entrance. Heather, Kristin, and Chelsea grabbed their keys and things and gave their goodbyes, vanishing from the deck, back over hundreds of years and a world or two of change.

Of course, when Mercer saw the ship, he sent all the marines and naval soldiers he had out to 'greet' her and her crew. He was met by Norrington on the deck.

"These men and women are to be cleared of their crimes," Norrington was speaking as he walked down the dock. Gillette poked his head out of the group of men and shouted.

"You're supposed to be dead!"

Norrington sighed. "Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated."

Mercer fixed dark eyes on the commodore. "Where's Lord Beckett?"

"Beckett was an unfortunate victim of Davy Jones," Norrington answered. "As was the ship of which he was in command. All the marines are dead." There were a few chortles amongst the men. Davy Jones was already known as pure superstition among those who did not sail on a regular basis. Of course, Norrington left out the part about the Marines being wasted by Elizabeth and Will, along with the two others who were of little circumstance in this situation.

"That leaves me in command," Mercer smirked. "And I say we must investigate the death of Lord Beckett on behalf of the East India Trading Company, and the deaths of the Port Royal Marines."

"Actually, Mr. Mercer," a cultured voice piped up. "That leaves _me _in command." Governor Swann stepped through the soldiers, finally gaining some influence back. "I have spoken with His Majesty, King George III. The Company is no longer needed as long as Commodore Norrington, soon to be Admiral for his troubles over these past months, is on duty here. You are relieved, sir." He didn't flinch as Mercer spat. The naval officers switched hands and escorted the EITC people back to Fort Charles. Norrington nodded to the governor. Jack, Will, Elizabeth, Scarlette and others finally found it safe to come out.

Governor Swann looked them all over and shook his heavy head. "I'm glad you're home, Elizabeth. I am sure your daughter will be equally happy to see you."

Liam looked around the adults and his grandfather Swann shook a finger at him immediately, as if he'd been waiting for the opportunity since the boy ran.

Liam blushed and hid back behind everyone with his friends, who poked and prodded him.

And slowly, life returned to a rather mundane level of excitement.

…**.**

Jack Sparrow decided to stay in Port Royal for a somewhat extended period of time after that grand adventure. With the remainder of the treasure taken from _The Serpent's Bounty_, he purchased a house on the outskirts of town, close enough to walk to and from places he frequented, but far enough away that he didn't feel clustered with the 'proper' folk.

Scarlette had used the water sword to make a natural and very aesthetically pleasing fountain. She spent sunsets near it, watching the little frogs hop about the driftwood she had placed within the fountain. Sharon and Joaquin were anxious, as children usually are, and now that they were getting back into lessons, they found life in that town dull. They'd spent a great deal of time in Tortuga and didn't understand why their parents had chosen Port Royal, a place in which they were likely to become outlaws again.

Norrington, however, had gone back to his happier self, it seemed. He had _not_ liked Beckett any more than the others had and once again, by necessity, he had aligned himself with pirates. He wasn't minding it as much anymore.

He had stopped wearing his ridiculous wig, however. There were officers who were not pleased about it, but there were some that saw it as a mark of trend and did away with theirs as well.

Topher was finally released from jail. He was not happy. In fact, he spent nearly two hours ranting about all sorts of things from the horrible food to the idiotic questions he was asked. His hair had grown well past where he wanted it and he had a beard. He trimmed his hair but on Robin's request, he kept the beard, trimming it only to look cleaner. Damian gave him strange looks but eventually got used to him.

Everything seemed normal.

There were no executions. No one was on the verge of being kidnapped. The peace was so strange and seemingly unnatural, that it put those individuals of the previous adventure on constant alert.

Will made an appearance over at the Sparrow's little house one day, unannounced and unexpected. Jack, upon seeing Will's worried face thought that something had finally happened.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"What is what?"

"Why are you here?"

"That's just it," Will answered. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Because everything _does_ feel right, is that it?" Jack smirked. "To good to be true, eh?"

Will nodded, his face showing his 'deep in thought' status. "Do you think we should have checkedthat ship when we saw it?"

"_The Flying Dutchman_," Jack said the name with a smile. "I would be all too happy if I never saw that ship again."

…**.**

Later that week, on a dark night, something not so ordinary happened.

Scarlette was fast asleep, tucked in against Jack like a kitten. Jack was still awake, blinking dark eyes out a window. The moon was little more than a sinister smile against the night sky and the sound of seagulls, still at their shrill cackle even at night sort of blended the scene all together.

Jack, in his staring, started to feel a distinct pull towards the window. He was not sure exactly what this strange feeling was, but he knew he might not want to adhere to it without first ascertaining its origin.

As the feeling grew worse, or rather, stronger, Scarlette snapped awake and stared at the window as well. She sat up and crawled off the bed to peek cautiously out the window.

"What the hell is going on?" Jack wondered aloud. He too got up and joined her at the window.

From this window, they could see down into the harbor, the crescent shaped bay holding a number of ships, both mercantile and naval. There were very seldom pirate ships that came into Port Royal. None would dare enter the territory marked out by the pirate lords for the man who slew Davy Jones. The Caribbean was Jack's but the waters around Port Royal and Tortuga were his specifically, just as Singapore belonged to Sao Feng.

Jack had received a letter not long after he had arrived in Port Royal from an unnamed source that detailed the decision made. Jack had been declared a sort of untouchable man for a while and his immediate territory, Port Royal, was marked as taboo. Of course, most pirates would avoid it just on the principal of Jones' death.

There was a presence in the harbor. Something was out there that shouldn't have been, and it wasn't some pirate come to challenge Jack. Scarlette moved away from the window and slipped on sufficient clothing. Jack pretty much slept in his clothing, just taking off the more uncomfortable accessories. When they were both dressed, they made sure that the kids were asleep and locked the door, heading towards the quay.

After a ten minute walk through air that had turned to fog and smelled so full of water it should have quenched their thirst, they arrived. The docks were empty of men and there was no light around. There were a few torches up on the fort's parapet, but odds are any lookout they had up there couldn't see through the fog.

Jack and Scarlette stood at the docks and looked out at the expanse of dark water, the fog dancing over it but not sticking to the surface. By the sounds of things, there was indeed something out in the water, a floating sort of something. Jack looked at Scarlette and she shrugged. She had brought the sword upon Jack's request and she hefted it.

They got into a small boat, probably belonging to some angler or other and Scarlette pointed the sword at the sound. She concentrated on the air and managed to call the moisture from it to dance upon the blade instead of over the ocean.

Her action had created a sort of tunnel through the fog through which Jack could maneuver the boat. Once a fair distance from land, the fog dissipated and they could see.

There was a ship floating, its sails encrusted, its planks covered with life and death of the sea. _The Flying Dutchman _floated without a soul to stir it.

Jack and Scarlette stared up at its silent looming shadow and didn't have much to say. Jack rowed up to it and they looked at each other.

"I'll go first," Scarlette spoke up.

"If you're sure," Jack answered. "It won't bother me."

Scarlette smirked and reached out to the ladder work on the side of the ship, careful not to skin herself on the sharp coral that climbed over the hull. She quickly ascended the hull and hopped over the railing, pulling out her sword as soon her dainty feet alighted on the deck.

It seemed deserted and as Jack moved up behind her and vaulted the railing, she moved closer to the main mast, looking around. Placing a hand on the wood of the mast, she looked back at Jack, a frown on her face.

"What is it?" he asked, coming closer. She looked around and put her sword away, wiping her hand against her leg as if she had touched something unpleasant.

"There are impressions all over this ship," she answered.

"Impressions?"

She circled her hands as if she were trying to convey something but couldn't put it into words. "Almost like ghosts … but not material enough to be so. When I touched the mast … I felt an image … someone the bos'un beat here lost more than blood. Their mind warped to this spot and I just happened to pick up on it, probably because they're dead."

"Are you sure they're dead?" Jack asked her sternly.

She bit her lip. "I need to check something." She walked over to the hatch and hoisted it open. She went down one flight, looking about the sleeping area. It was deserted as far as she could tell, but there were more impressions … creaks in the floor where feet had worn the grain down, as if they still walked here in this ghostly ship. She went one more level down, to the brig and cargo storage level. The door was still broken, the gouges it had torn in the floor when it had been wrenched off looking fresh.

Scarlette looked to the place Wyvern had occupied. The iron shackles in which he had once merely been bound temporarily with were there, covered in a thin growth of coral but there was no body. Scarlette moved close to the wall as Jack looked around the cramped space. She was trying to discern with her eyes something that would explain the presence of the ship when it listed just enough to port for her to put a hand out to catch herself against the hull.

As her skin touched the wood and coral, images flashed before her eyes. Jack reached out as she made some noise and the images passed to him as well.

After a bombardment of images of a sailor's life, a man that looked somewhat familiar to Scarlette appeared in a rather wispy form before them. She and Jack had fallen to their knees under the cavalcade of memories and picked themselves up as the ghost smirked at them.

"I remember you," the ghost spoke, pointed at Jack. "I was there when you made your deal with Jones. And of course, you I remember well. You were the first woman ever to grace us with your presence."

"Who are you?" Jack asked.

"I was called Wyvern on this ship," the man answered. "That name will suffice. I'd rather not give my old name. It doesn't seem relevant anymore."

Scarlette nodded and looked him over. This had been what the mess of coral and aquatic structure had started out as … he had been a man, like any of the other crewmembers. "Glad to see you awake," she told him.

"Yep," he answered. "Where are we?"

"Port Royal," Jack answered. "We came out here wondering why on earth this bloody ship came into port all by itself. You wouldn't have had anything to do with that, would you?"

"Me? Nope, I don't have any material powers anymore." He smirked. "But I can surmise what this might be about. I assume one of you killed that despicable captain, right?"

Scarlette and Jack exchanged a glance. "Well, we sort of both had a hand in his demise," Jack answered.

"Ah," Wyvern answered. "Well, you see … this ship needs a living heart to continue on its prowl of the sea. With its captain dead, it seeks out another. Jones was placed on this ship by the one who brought it to be. Davy Jones wanted to kill the last captain of the ship hundreds of years ago and because he had some odd powers to be reckoned with, as did its previous owner, the ship began to take on magical qualities of its own."

Jack and Scarlette's faces were less frightened and more interested now. The ship was dark, but it seemed that there was firelight within the walls. Jack looked over and noticed that light emanated from a lantern, but there was no fire within. The ship had a memory of her own as well.

"The one who killed the captain inherits the ship," Wyvern continued. "That is how _The Flying Dutchman_ works now, regardless of how it did before."

Scarlette and Jack looked at each other again. "We were only two of seven that aided in the killing of Davy Jones." Jack told Wyvern. "How can we be the ones it has come to find?"

"Don't forget," Scarlette pointed out. "Will and Elizabeth held the cursed blades as well. We are not the only ones in port that share in the death of Jones. Perhaps it came here because there were four people who bore the mark of inheritance."

Wyvern shook his head. "If they had been part of its agenda, they would have been called as you were. The ship chooses who it finds most worthy if it has much of a choice at all."

"How do you know all this?" Scarlette asked.

Wyvern opened his mouth to answer and closed it, thinking better of his words. "I'm not really sure, but the information is there."

"Ye gods," Jack answered blandly. "Well, which one of us does it want?"

Wyvern smirked again, straightening his cap. He looked sort of like a dilapidated Popeye without the muscles. "I can tell ya that much. Come with me, if you please." He floated upwards, following the way of mortal travel, climbing up out of the second hatch and once again up to the first level.

He waited patiently for Scarlette and Jack to end up on the deck and he led them higher, up to the top deck where the helm stood. He leaned against the railing and motioned to the wooden wheel that steered the ship.

"You need only to grip that helm and the ship will either welcome you or not."

"How will the ship welcome us?" Scarlette asked. "I don't want to end up with tentacles on my face, thank you. Last time I touched it, I got zapped."

"No, no," Wyvern answered. "Nothing like that. You'll know when it happens."

Scarlette and Jack looked at the helm and back at Wyvern before they glanced at each other.

"You want to go first?" Jack smiled as he said it, hoping his wife's reckless streak was longer than his own was. She eyed him and shook her head.

"No, I think it's definitely your turn," she answered.

He frowned. "Will you still love me if I end up with a Davy Jones calamari face?"

She raised one eyebrow and answered with a straight face. "I already love calamari."

"Very funny."

"I thought so."

Jack shook his head and before he could talk himself out of it, he grasped one of the worn handles of the helm. Nothing happened for a moment and he let out a sigh of relief. The handle suddenly zapped him however, and he stumbled back from it with a grunt of discomfort.

He tossed off his coat and rolled his left sleeve up. Placed on the inside of his wrist was a dark silhouette, almost like a tattoo, of the kraken. Its tentacles wrapped around his wrist in an artful way.

Scarlette looked at it with interest. "Well, that wasn't so bad."

"You've been accepted," Wyvern spoke up. "You carry the previous captain's mark."

"Did Jones have a mark from his previous captain?" Jack asked, pulling his coat back on. That mark had stung.

"He did indeed," Wyvern answered. "It was a rather ornate C. I don't know anything about the previous captain other than the fact that they were not human."

"What was he?" Scarlette and Jack asked at the same time. They looked at each other and gave a sort of challenging look towards what sometimes felt like their double.

"Heard he was a vampire, or somethin' like that," Wyvern answered. "I'm disinclined to believe such things, however. Someone once said it was a woman, a goddess what had this ship before. No one really knows, 'cept Jones himself, and a great lot of help that is. I still can't believe half the things I've been told, however."

"Maybe you should practice otherwise," Jack suggested.

"What happens now?" Scarlette asked curiously, managing to get her question answered and bring them back on track simultaneously.

"You should try the helm as well," Jack pointed out. "Unless the ghost thinks it unwise …"

"No, no," Wyvern waved his hands. "She _should _try it. I don't know if it will recognize more than one person, but it's worth a try."

Scarlette met Jack's eyes and she reached out tentatively to the helm. The reaction was instantaneous. Perhaps the ship was awake now and hadn't needed to warm up to fire at her.

She lifted her right sleeve, contrary to Jack's left, and found that there was no kraken. On her right arm was a sparrow.

"That's interesting," Jack commented, looking at her arm with interest. It was definitely _his_ mark, not that of Davy Jones.

Wyvern smiled slyly. "A double recognition. Perhaps due to the joint effort, there is a shared inheritance. I wonder if your marks would be handed down if the others who had a part in Jones' demise touched the helm."

Scarlette looked over at Jack. "I have one question," she asked, still looking at her husband. "Do we _have _to captain this ship?"

"Someone must," a new voice answered. The three of them turned to find Skadi standing on the deck. She walked up to them, leaving a trail of ice behind her.

"Okay," Scarlette nodded. "But whoever takes the job … are they going to end up immortal as Jones was?"

Skadi looked at her. "There is a decision to be made here by one of you. Someone must take the place of Njord in the elemental pantheon."

"Become a god?" Scarlette exclaimed, backing up. She looked at Jack, who was not as taken aback as she seemed to be. After all, the Pelegostos had already thought_ he_ was a god.

Jack looked at her and shrugged. Scarlette looked back at the Ice Queen. "You want one of us to take on as reigning power over the sea?"

Skadi nodded. "There must be someone to govern the sea. It is too powerful otherwise, and since others are … compromised, we are asking you."

Scarlette slumped and Jack moved up to support her. "What's so bad about that, luv?"

"Jack, do you not get it? Either you or I will become immortal. I don't want to watch you die as I stay young but I don't think I want the position reversed either."

"I was warned of this," Skadi interjected. "And I was also told that the offer could be made to both of you. In the past, concerning the sea, there have been two deities. Neither are available as of now."

"Both of us," Scarlette frowned. "You mean … we would both become like you?"

Skadi nodded. "Yes. That is what I am to offer you."

Jack smirked. "Sounding better and better. The immortal Captain Jack Sparrow … such a lovely ring …."

"Jack," Scarlette gripped his arm. "You're thinking of the 'now', not the 'later'."

"Might I add that if you two do not take this opportunity to fill in the shoes … boots of Njord … We will make the offer to others."

"What others?" Jack asked, serious at last.

"We would start with Captain Sao Feng. He is the next best qualified."

"I ranked higher than Sao Feng?" Jack asked in excitement, a grin on his face.

"Well, the _two _of you did," Skadi answered. "We counted on your partnership."

"Sao Feng would refuse," Scarlette spoke.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Jack smirked. "That man is after power, make no mistake. Who is after him?"

"The merman, Dacor," she answered. There was a silent thought about that. Dacor was a very good leader and he was already immortal. He, however, led more with his heart than his head, which was not always a good thing. It was often how Will got into trouble. Thinking of Will, Jack brought him up. Skadi shook her head.

"We did not consider William Turner or the young wolf. Elizabeth as well was not considered very seriously, though she would be welcome above her husband. He is much too soft and she is a tad too temperamental. Angel the wolf is too much an earthen energy to wield the power of the sea."

Scarlette frowned and thought. "I have a question."

"Ask and if I hold the answer, I will give it."

"What if we accepted now but … only temporarily?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Scarlette gestured. "Say we accept, and then someone better qualified comes along. I think that with both of us on the job, there won't be any decisions that will shake the earth, but I also think that we probably aren't meant for it. If we find the right person, can we step down for them?"

Skadi thought about it. She snapped and Zeus suddenly appeared, along with two or three of Sheikh Abu's old belly dancer harem women. They shrieked in surprised and Zeus snapped, sending them back to wherever.

"You rang, Snowflake?" he sounded irritated, probably a little miffed about being interrupted.

Skadi repeated the question to him and he thought about it. "Interesting question. It's all right with me. I don't much care _who_ takes the job as long as they're qualified." He vanished with a zap sound and the giggling of women was heard briefly afterwards.

"Well, there you have it," Skadi answered. "Do I have your agreement?"

Scarlette still looked skeptical about it. It was a big decision and Jack, having already made up his mind made her want to take _extra_ time with her own. Jack put an arm around her. "Think of it this way, luv … if we refuse … we have no way of knowing that the person who finally agrees will be beneficial to the sea and those who roam it. However, if we take it on, we'll know that we won't go destroying things on a whim … we certainly aren't going to steal the souls of sailors … and we only have to do it until we find a better suited person."

Scarlette looked at him, having a feeling he wasn't going to try terribly hard to find a replacement but knowing he was right about their lack of knowledge concerning others' capabilities. Zeus had said it. He didn't care who took the job, as long as the position was filled.

"Fine," she answered. "But this won't be a permanent thing, and I do expect that one of us should be here, and one on _the Pearl_."

"Satellites," Skadi smiled. "Come close so that we may be friends."

"Hold on just a minute," a male voice spoke and Hades stepped out of the darkness. Ares followed behind him and they stood there, not entirely happy with Skadi. "It's our job to do this. They were _our_ chosen."

Skadi sighed. "Very well, but we must give them descriptions."

"What, god and goddess of the sea isn't enough?" Ares asked.

"Certainly not," Skadi answered. "I am goddess of ice, but my subtitles are for righteous anger, justice, and vengeance."

Hades looked at Scarlette and it seemed like he were reading her. "Well, if she's the goddess of the sea … then maybe her death magic will go away."

"It shouldn't," Skadi answered. "Read her now before we change them and then administer your titles. Loki, can you do this?"

"No problem," he answered. "Might end up sounding a little condensed but we can always have Minerva embellish on what we come up with, bein' so smart and all."

Hades nodded. "Let's do it, before she changes her mind."

Scarlette frowned and stepped forward with Jack. Hades made some motion with his hand and frowned. "May I borrow your sword, please?"

"You mean this one?" Scarlette pointed to _Aoi-rozuka_ on her back. He nodded.

"It's already bonded to you," he said as he took it from her. "This is good. It will make everything easier." He pressed the blade into either of her shoulders and reared back, lunging forward and stabbing the blade into her abdomen. She hunched with the blow but looking down, noticed that no blood fell. She felt no pain. He pulled the sword back and handed it to the war god.

Scarlette looked down at herself as Jack closed his eyes, not wanting to watch the blade pierce his stomach. Her skin glowed faintly for a moment, shining blue. Her eyes flashed and were suddenly very green, as if they were burning emeralds. Her hair grew swiftly to stop just short of her knees. It remained black but gained a bluish tint.

Jack's appearance did not much change. His eyes grew darker and his skin seemed to glow a golden tan color, every bit of dirt on either of them vanishing. They stood there, looking almost as if they had been carved from something other than flesh.

Hades handed Scarlette the sword after Ares was finished stabbing Jack with it. She took it and the blade came to life in her hand, giving off a flash of bright light. She put it away before the rain started pouring from the sky.

The gods looked up and laughed. Hades shook his head. "Well, there you have it. Scarlette, Ryoko, whatever your name is … we all have many. You are indeed the goddess of the sea now. Both of you have command over the sea. You can bring up storms, calm the waters, and change the currents to your liking. You have many terrible powers that we hope you won't use unless you must."

Hades pointed at Scarlette and continued on her subject. "The Singing Sea … your subtitles being this … you will stand for common sense, second chances, and iron will. Just by existing, you will make sure that those who die at sea make it to wherever they are supposed to go. Your secondary skills will include music, power over death on the sea, and the ability to command and communicate with sea creatures. You are the goddess sailors, pirates, and naval officers, whoever—think of, pray to, implore … you're it for them."

Scarlette thought about it and smiled, happy with the description. Loki snorted and spoke to Jack next with Skadi overlooking.

"Yeah, well you're king to her queen, buddy. You'll probably be known as the Ocean's Gambit. Your three token traits will be the following. That's what you 'stand for' as he said. You'll _stand _for quick thinking, that is, cleverness and all that, uh … individuality … and," Loki/Ares started laughing. "This one is _good_. You're a drinking god. Your third is alcohol."

Skadi snorted. "You made that up."

"Nope."

"Did you scan him as well?" Skadi asked Hades, who also had a smirk.

"Yeah, and that's about it. His three were all a pirates needs. Ingenuity, individualism, and inebriation."

"The three 'ins'," Scarlette cracked, elbowing Jack.

"All right, moving on," Ares interrupted, impatient as always. "As long as you are on the job, no crew, pirate or not, that gets totally drunk out of their minds and passes out on the deck, will be attacked when they are unaware. It will allow captains worldwide to not ration their rum so much. Your secondary skills will include—"

"Killer fashion sense, incredible sex appeal and the ability to never have a headache after a night of binge drinking," Jack attempted at a prediction. Scarlette started sniggering. "What?"

"I agree with two out of the three," she answered.

"Which two?"

"I'm not telling."

"Not exactly," Ares answered, enjoying this part. He liked the more fun gods. "You will be able to call the wind and the water to sail in any direction, you will always know _what _direction is _where _without a compass, and you will never lose a game that involves dice, cards, or any other gambling instruments. You are the one all mariners draw their luck from, and consequently, you are the one they curse when things go wrong."

"That sounds about right," Skadi nodded. "Bear in mind, those who rule the sea all have these things in common. You two are sort of two parts of a whole. Njord was about the same as you two together. He could never lose a game of Perudo, his musical perception was impeccable, and he believed so strongly in second chances that he gave each soul he came to a chance to redeem itself. Of course, due to his liking to common sense, he never _told _them they had a chance."

"Well, I'm finished here," Ares stretched and vanished in a ball of flame. Hades tipped an invisible hat at the two new deities and vanished without sight or sound of odd happenings. Skadi remained but exhaled in a way that told she was wrapping up as well.

"Well, if you have any questions, just slip sideways," she demonstrated, slipping halfway through a portal. "You can't go wrong with that. Your signature will bring you straight to us."

"Right," Jack gave a salute.

"If we have any questions, we'll be sure to ask," Scarlette said with meaning. It was more of a warning for Jack than a reassuring to Skadi. She nodded however and bade them farewell. Slipping 'sideways' as she put it, she left them as well on the deck of the ship. Wyvern was still hovering nearby. His glow had been diminished nearly to nothingness in the presence of the others.

"Well, damn," Wyvern exclaimed. "I had no idea the captain _couldn't_ lose at that stupid game. If I had known that, I wouldn't have challenged him incessantly. I feel a lot better about my own abilities now, though. I thought for a while that I was just a rotten player."

Scarlette eyed the ghost and spoke to him in a new light. "Maybe you should go home, Wyvern. It must be so long since you've been there … and after that, you can go off to wherever you're supposed to go to."

"That's just it," Wyvern answered. "In reality, I am one hundred and forty-two years old. There is not a soul alive that I have ever known, save for you and those other two that were with you before. I have no home to go to."

"Then rest, Wyvern," she told him. "Thank you for delivering the message. You can sleep now."

"I've been sleeping on and off for so long, I want to see the world a bit before I vanish completely."

"If that's what you really want, then I suppose you could hang around here for awhile," she answered. "But I don't want you going after people that remind you of your gruesome past because we don't want any poltergeist activity, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, no problem." Wyvern smirked and swooped about until he had vanished.

"Well … Singing Sea," Jack smirked. "Shall we head back?"

She snorted. "After you, Ocean's Gambit."

"You know," Jack commented, climbing down into the boat before her. "If you were wearing a dress, you wouldn't make _me _go first."

"I'm aware of that," she answered, sliding down the ladder. Once they had situated themselves and rowed far enough away from the ship, Scarlette and Jack both made a sort of pushing motion downwards. _The Flying Dutchman_ sank into the sea, bubbling and murmuring as it sank.

Jack rowed back and the fog slowly returned. They stepped onto the dock and tied the man's boat back up to where it had been before and returned home as if nothing outside of the ordinary had happened.

…**.**

I'm sleepy. It's after 4 in the morning, May 18th. This is my last chapter. I'll write the Epilogue, and then we're done. Page count as of yet is … 649.


	26. Epilogue: Drink Up Me Hearties

May 18th, 2007, 4:18 am. We have eight days total until Pirates of he Caribbean; At World's End comes out. That leaves me four days to reread, and repost each story. What with Alice in Wonderland going on … it'll be a tough deadline.

Let's go for it.

**Epilogue – A Pirate's Life **

The first thing Scarlette did the next day was bargain with Hades for the souls of those aboard _The Necromancer_. She managed to get him to bring them all back somewhat intact, Jukes included, and they became her crew, as they were all very grateful to her for having brought them back, if only for that purpose.

Morgan, however, never got his ship back. He did not join Scarlette's crew aboard the cursed ship either.

Jack had specified that she would captain _the Dutchman_, which he called the 'Crocodile Machine' half the time in conversation. He wanted to keep his precious _Pearl_, and that was fine with her. He was still in command of her, and she didn't mind that either because it was not assumed.

Ragetti, Pintel, Tony, and after a while, Sean joined her crew. Bootstrap, however, did not like going onto the other ship. Memories of his days there were a little too painful.

Scarlette gave up the great cabin to the crew and spent her nights on _the Pearl_. The organ sat untouched for a great while, though there was the ghost of a familiar melody that seemed to seep from the ship itself on occasion.

The kraken returned, once again, only this time it came to Scarlette's call. She sent it far below to feast on the creatures in the deep and to leave the ships alone. No one was able to speculate on just how it had survived.

"You ever wonder if maybe dere's more'n one o' dem?" Pintel asked one day.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Scarlette answered. "Where I come from, giant squid are caught fairly often and are known to take down whales. I've never seen one so I don't know if they compare with the size of the kraken."

Jack was on his ship, practicing his new directional sense and drinking openly on the deck. He had discovered that he could turn any liquid into whatever he wanted. When he had shown this to Scarlette, she had told a joke she'd once heard.

"A pirate and his parrot are stranded in a small rowed craft in the middle of the ocean. They happen to find a bottle floating nearby and without too much effort, they acquire said bottle. Upon opening it, they are graced with the presence of a genie. The genie says that he will grant them one wish and only one wish. The pirate up and blurts out that he wants the sea to be made of the finest rum ever tasted by anyone. The genie grants his wish and vanishes with a poof."

"Not a bad idea," Jack smirked.

"Wait 'til you hear the end before you go and do something silly and unnecessary."

"Well, then?"

"The parrot looks at his human companion and exclaims '_BRAK! Now we're gonna have to pee in the boat_!' I'd rather not watch that play out, if it's all the same to you."

Jack laughed aloud at that one. They were standing on the deck of _the Pearl_ just outside of Tortuga. With Jack's newfound powers, they could make the journey in one day. _The Black Pearl_ had been the fastest ship in the Caribbean before. Now it was the fastest in the world. Scarlette had not taken her ship under yet simply because she had spent more than enough time below on her first visit. However, she was able to share in Jack's speed if she could coax a few whales to tow her ship.

Jack didn't think this was fair, of course, and it turned into a competition, as things often did with the two of them. Jack won, but not by much.

They were accepted with warm welcomes and a most raucous party in Tortuga. The bandits were exceptionally happy about their alliance now.

Tia Dalma made an appearance halfway through the night and requested an audience with Jack and Scarlette. Jack felt awfully odd in agreeing, seeing as he had been the one going to her for so long.

The three of them sat in a stone room draped with velvet. Tia Dalma just looked them over silently for a few moments. She almost seemed disappointed.

"I should 'ave known dat dis is what I be seein'." She spoke finally, gripping a tin cup in her hand. "I seen a great ship wid' ya gurl at de wheel, but I see now dat be what happen if I had not mixed up me potion on de island."

"You saw me captaining a large ship?" Scarlette asked. "Am I not doing that now?"

"No'm, not you … de little one, but it was not her as now … later, later. Me t'ink dat if Jack Sparrow no more, an' you refuse de godhood dat they move on to de babes one day."

"What did you see?" Jack asked urgently. "What made you come to the island and mix up that salve?"

She smiled finally. "I see you, painted in red wid' ya own color, and Davy Jones de one wid' de brush. He still died, but he was not de on'y man what lost him soul dat day, least not in me vision. De wolf would be gone, but not by Jones." Tia Dalma looked over at Scarlette. "Jack Sparrow lay dyin' and de wolf call in de promises too soon. Him force you to finish him as well …"

Scarlette looked saddened. "I am very glad that your vision did not come to pass. Thank you for helping us avoid such fates."

Tia Dalma nodded her head slightly, looking much sadder than befitted the situation. "Now dat you have dese powers, I expect you to fix de problems you may have created in ya strain for life. Isla de Muerta still be under de water. Be fixin' dat one an' pay de men on de ships. Den ya bring Barbossa beck to me. I fix him up quick."

"We don't really want him fixed up," Jack answered. "In fact, we rather like him in pieces where he can't bother anyone or kidnap helpless people to get what he wants."

"I was_ not_ helpless," Scarlette pointed out in a miffed tone.

"I never said you were, luv," Jack answered. "I said de _kidnapped_ helpless people. You, he just held hostage."

"Splitting hairs, I think," she muttered.

"Next, ya bes' find de remains o' de ship Beckett came to de island in, to prove it is no more, or de local wig men in Port Royal will get excited again."

"I'm just glad you didn't suggest we bring back Beckett," Scarlette sighed in relief. "I don't want to bring back anyone who is that much of a pain in the ass."

"You brought Norrington back," Jack pointed out. "And Morgan."

"Norrington was necessity, Morgan was by accident."

"Now who's splitting hairs," Jack grinned. She stuck the tip of her tongue out at him.

Tia Dalma sighed at their childish display and stood. "I will be an adviser to you, Jack Sparrow. You two will not be wid'out hearts, dough. Ye'll be de gods o' de sea, but dere mus' be compassion as well, or dere will be no success."

Jack and Scarlette exchange a glance and Jack answered. "I don't think that will be a problem."

"You will be surprised, no doubt," Tia Dalma opened the door and led them from the room. Within the bandits' hideaway, the party had reached a rather feverous point. Jack and Scarlette, rather than join in the body clashing and merrymaking walked out and up to the peak where the bandit lookout was posted. He paid them no mind.

Jack sat on a large rock and after a moment, Scarlette joined him.

They stared at the moon, which just happened to be full at that particular moment. Scarlette shivered and heard the ghostly howl of a wolf. Jack didn't react and so she attributed that particular phantom to her memory. She missed Angel and wished he could have been her friend, but would not wish friendship on him if it caused him pain. She tightened her grip on Jack's hand and buried her face in his neck.

"What shall we do now?" Scarlette asked into the bend of his neck. He shivered from her breath and drew her closer, an arm around her waist.

"I believe the last time you asked me that particular question after we had barely escaped with our lives I told you that we were free to do as we pleased." He smiled and his eyes glittered in the moonlight. "Can we not fly as freely as before with responsibility?"

"Why not?" Scarlette smiled. "We just need to clean up our messes before we can really have fun, and I'm still serious about finding a true god of the sea."

"Let's fix our mistakes first," Jack answered. "Then we can talk about what happens afterward."

"Yeah," she answered. "One problem at a time makes one forget, but I won't let us forget the important stuff."

"Bet I could make you forget," Jack grinned but his comment was only halfhearted. It had been a long day.

"_Drink up, me hearties, yo ho_," she smirked. "I'll drink to that."

"All right. Cheers." Bottles appeared in their hands and Scarlette gave him a dirty look.

"Don't abuse these powers," she scolded him.

"All right, all right," he growled. "Just this once, however, I think we're entitled."

She pulled the cork and sniffed, making sure no practical joke was on her. She took a swig of the rum and smiled.

"That's more like it," Jack noticed. "Now, what comes after '_Drink up, me hearties, yo ho_'?"

Scarlette smiled and sang. "_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me_."

-[Fini]-

Finished May 18th, 2007 at 5:40 am, just after the first stirrings of dawn. Final page count before credits (more like character acknowledgements) is at 654. _Oracle's Prophecy_ before credits and glossary clocked in at 713, so we're less than 70 pages short. Things that are missing … I don't have a trailer thing for the next story because as far as I'm thinking, there isn't another story.

Thank you all for being super cool and wasting so many hours of your life to read this story. Thanks for ideas and silly sayings and thank you very much for putting up with my procrastination.

And now, for character acknowledgement, AKA, credits.

-]Fini[-

-Author- MAXWELL JACK

-Based on Walt Disney's PIRATES of the CARIBBEAN and PIRATES of the CARIBBEAN, CURSE of the BLACK PEARL-

-Produced by and MICROSOFT WORD-

-Executive Producer- JMAX

-Pictures, murals, and other visual effects- MIAKA SOATOME

-Production Designer- MAXWELL JACK

-Editors- JAMIE and HEATHER COOK

-Costumes for original characters- Shannon Cook

-Music- Alan Cook and Tasuki Noda

-Music supervisor and casting- Jade Ryouko

Johnny Depp

Geoffrey Rush

Pirates of the Caribbean

T h e O r a c l e ' s P r o p h e c y

Orlando Bloom

Keira Knightley

Jack Davenport

Kevin R. McNally

Zoë Saldana

Jonathan Pryce

Chow Yun-Fat

Bill Nighy

Tom Hollander

J.R. Maxwell

E.A Talbott

R. Skiles

Lee Arenberg

Mackenzie Crook

Kevin Denson

David Bailie

C. Gonzales

D.D. Cobian

Heather Cook

Kristin Thornburg

Chelsea Russell

Tony Mecum

Sean Wilson-Luckinbill

Naomi Harris

presents

in association with

Microsoft Word

A

Silhouette Doujinshi

Fiction

cast 

Captain Jack Sparrow – Johnny Depp

William Turner – Orlando Bloom

Elizabeth Turner - Keira Knightley

Scarlette Sparrow – Jamie Rose

James Norrington – Jack davenport

Morgan Maxwell – Kevin Denson

Hector Barbossa – Geoffrey Rush

Davy Jones – Bill Nighy

Cutler Beckett – Tom Hollander

Sao Feng – Chow Yun-Fat

Angel – Liam Parker

Weatherby Swann – Jonathan Pryce

Robin Skiles – Robby Casper

Topher – Michael Whatnom

Lizzy Talbott – Elizabeth Ashley

David – D.J. Perkins

Kami Maxwell – Tex Kemp

Joshamee Gibbs – Kevin R. McNally

Anamaria Johnson – Zoë Saldana

Bootstrap Bill Turner – Stelan Skarsgard

Tia Dalma – Naomie Harris

Libussa – Femi Taylor

Unorna – Queen Latifah

Old Cheese – Trevor Hanlin

Pintel – Lee Arenberg

Ragetti – Mackenzie Crook

Claudia Gonzales – Cloud Morrison

Heather Kearl – Ariana Cook

Kristin – Anamaria Thornburg

Tony – Anthony Mecum

Stupid – Sean Wilson-Luckinbill

Chelsea – Baby Russell

Kwan Lyun – Tommy Tanaka

Lt. Gillette – Damian O'Hare

Mercer – David Schofield

Groves – Greg Ellis

Murtogg – Giles New

Mullroy – Angus Barnette

Cotton – David Bailie

Estrella – Paula Jane Newman

Butler – Paul Keith

Mulligan – Hugh Laurie

Angelique – Charlotte Leonard

Diana Cobian – D.D. Etoile

Makeo – Antonio Banderas

Ayeka – Salma Hayek

Galatia – Shaina Brown

Shelly – Shawna Perry

Danya – Danielle Mrkvicka

Rokell – Rachel Gantenbein

William Turner (III) – Dominic Scott Kay

Sharon Sparrow – Mikayla Minter

Damian Topher – Jeremy Smith

Keira Turner – Bailey Cornilles

Joaquin Sparrow – Vincenzo Cangilose

Lenore Perkins – Madeline Highbarger

Stefano – Brandon Cox

Hades – David Bowie

Iris – Reese Witherspoon

Hermes – Rhys Ifans

Zeus – Eddie Izzard

Ares – Robert Gooding

Demeter – Patricia Wilson

Skadi – Kate Blanchett

Apollo – Jacob Fatooh

Jack's Crew

Schaeffer – Mike Gonzales

Marty – Martin Klebba

Armstrong – Kenny the Fragrant

Stevenson – Sir Talbott

Dobereiner – Jesse Prow

Ichiroku – Kagayama Hironobu

Lejon – Lejon O. Stewart

Leech - San Shella

The Parrot – Captain Flint

Bob Marley – Bungey

Morgan's Crew

Jericho – Jay-R Lewis

Ruby – Lindsey Summers

Cob – Carlos Hardesty

Sheikh Abu – Audie Elzea

Kole – Cole Mussleman

Mullins – Matthew Lyke

Noodler – Josh Masters

McMutton – Phil Contreras

Klow – George Clow

Bert – Bruce Allen

Eva – Amy Ashley

Jukes – A.J. Hosley

Starks – Greg Patch

Norrington's Men

Fomosa – Nick Fomosa

Gomez – Steven Gleoffe

Anton – Porsch Anthony

Christianson – Martin Christianson

Aguilar – Albert Aguilar

Reeves – Justin Reeves

Lyandize 

Dacor – Dan Cornette

Sanel – Sarah Nelson

Mimis – Michael Miska

Alfor – Alex Fornes

Dewhi – Devin White

Mafra – Matt Frankiewitz

Tocle – Tom McClellan

Wiobr – William Obregon

Admad – Adrian Madrigal

Magag – Mark Gage

Raare – Rafael Arenas

Waher – Walter Herzog

Joste – John Steel

Natives

Daniel Ortiz

Steve Ortega

Stu Sia

Ben Mudd

Brendon White

Joshua Doozledorf

Chris Ramirez

Franky Escandon

Luis Mora

Scott Ryden

Josh Boone

Richie Sebastian

Sandra Cassas

Katie Mishler

Jordan Ely

Pat Miller

Corey Smith

Jonathan Lucero

Kevin Rasch

Art Tyson

Justin Johnson

Eddie Cerilla

Adam Cleavinger

Dutchman's Crew

Maccus – Dermot Keant

Koleniko – Clive Ashborn

Palafico – Winston Ellis

Hadras – Ho-Kwan Tse

Jimmylegs – Chris Adamson

Clanker – Andy Beckwith

O'Gilvey – Jonathan Linsley

Greenbeard – Jason Kakebeen

Penrod – Oliver Clown

Wheelback – C.G. Magic

Wyvern – John Boswall

Ulysses – Chris Symonds

Manibar – Michael Symonds

Content Inspirators

Pirates of the Caribbean; Curse of the Black Pearl

Pirates of the Caribbean; Dead Man's Chest

Pirates of the Caribbean; The Oracle's Prophecy

LucasArts Monkey Island series

God of War

The creators of Styrofoam

Ranma ½

Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum

Madame Southwood and Mr. Noonan

Anyone else I've forgotten

Anything else I've forgotten

A very big credit to Microsoft word spellchecker

And there you have it, ladies and gents. It is May 25th, 2007 10:48 … so there. Hah.

Easter egg ending?

White sand stretched for miles in every direction and when Beckett opened his eyes, he was damn near blinded by the brightness. He sat up in a confused manner, blinking rapidly and looking around in wonder. He felt himself, looking at his arms and legs and marveling that he wasn't in pieces. His hand still bore a bloody wound from where he'd been stabbed by the flying knife of Davy Jones' fit, but it looked days old. As he blinked, he felt the crusted remains of blood over his right eye where Scarlette's rock had made its mark.

"Bloody hell, where is this?"

"_It doesn't take someone with astute mental capacity to figure that out_," a voice answered. There was something familiar about the voice. Beckett turned quickly but there was no one around. Frowning, he got to his feet, noticing that the stockings he wore had the crust of dried blood around the ankles where the shoes had worn his skin down. His eyebrow was stiff as well and he remembered the well-placed rock Scarlette Sparrow had thrown. A cool rage welled up when he thought about her.

"Who's there?"

There was a ghost of a female laugh and Scarlette's voice replied this time. "_Try not to think too hard. You might hurt yourself_."

"What is that supposed to mean? How did I get here? How is this possible? I saw Jones die and then …."

Jones' voice called out of the never-ending whiteness and Beckett began to see a pattern. Every time he thought or spoke of someone, their voice was the next to speak.

"_A delectable side scrap you made, it seems. Your ship was the main course and you, but an appetizer. Now what will you do?_"

Beckett looked around and decided not to ask any more questions unless he couldn't bear it any longer. He turned in a complete circle, surveying the vast landscape and finally, after squinting and shielding his eyes, was able to see something in the distance. He took a few steps in that direction and winced. Reaching a hesitant hand to the ground, he tested the temperature. It wasn't too hot. He kicked off the abrasive shoes and started walking in just the stockings, holding the buckled monstrosities in one hand.

He hadn't walked far when an object on the ground caught his eye. It was a red lump surrounded by oddly shaped white rocks. He carefully stepped around all the rocks and looked at the object. It was a heart and it sat on the sand, a dark blot on a sea of pure white.

Beckett remembered throwing the heart in a fit after Jack Sparrow and 'company' had killed Jones. Before he could stop it, another voice floated to him on the thick air.

"_A heartless wretch he was, but if Jones is dead, does the heart still beat, I wonder?_" Jack's voice was always mocking but Beckett looked down at the heart and noticed with a sickening amazement that the heart was in fact beating. He bent and gingerly picked it up. The pulses were irregular and made him want to hurl. He put the heart in one of his shoes and kept walking, not noticing that the bundle of rocks that had surrounded the heart were now following him.

He could hear the little clicks the 'rocks' made but he refused to turn around. He did not want to see what other monstrosities were down here.

He had realized by now that he was in fact in Davy Jones' Locker, but he was certain he'd seen Jones die.

"_Perhaps this place belongs to another now,_" Jones' voice came again. "_But who would it be? Whose prison is it now?_"

"Whoever the sea god is," Beckett answered. He tripped over something and nearly went down. He looked to see what his foot had caught and was surprised to find the chest. How had he missed it, walking in this tundra? He picked it up and put his shoes and the heart inside, noticing the key was still in the lock. He pocketed it and as he was about to pick up the chest, the rock crabs came into view. They were arranged in a V and they clicked their little pincers at him. He blinked and without warning, took off running.

They were not fast enough to catch him but he was in an unfamiliar place and the rules of logic weren't working. He shouted to the sky as he ran.

"Who is the sea god?"

"_The domains have changed,_" Jack's voice spoke. "_More power to your enemies_."

"Damn you!"

He could see the remains of _The Endeavour _and was happy to see men there. He would not go insane with company. Not only were there men he knew, but a few old looking sailors were hanging about as well. He came to a stop and looked at them, trying to make sure without speaking if they were an apparition or not.

"Lord Beckett?" one of them spoke. "What's going on?"

"_What indeed_," a strange woman's voice asked. The men seemed as if they hadn't heard it.

"I hate this place," one of the random sailors spoke. "I ain't never seen that before, though." He pointed at a leafy green area that Beckett hadn't noticed yet. It was like an oasis in a desert, and might as well have been.

"Who are you?" Beckett asked him.

The man grinned in a strange way. "Maccus. I was on _the Dutchman_. Scarlette Sparrow sent me here."

"_You are dreaming_," Scarlette's voice laughed. "_The blades of chaos are merciful_." Beckett looked around.

"She sent you here?"

"Well, not on purpose. Though, now she has control. Who knows what'll happen. That's what that is, I'm guessing." He pointed at the greenery.

"What does she have control of?"

Maccus laughed. "Don't you know?"

Beckett narrowed his eyes and shook his head. Maccus was eating it up and told with much relish the next line. "She's the goddess. She's in command of _the Dutchman_ and the seas, which means this place is now hers. We are all prisoners now and we'll stay here … well, _you _will."

"_None of this is real_," Scarlette said, and the voice was so strong, Beckett looked behind him. To his vast surprise, there she stood. She was in the white dress she'd worn when pretending to be French. He glared and moved to do something to her, probably hit her with the chest, but she was gone before he'd completed the gesture. Maccus laughed and when Beckett looked back, everything but the oasis was gone. There were footprints leading from where he stood to the green place and he quickly followed them.

He entered the shade and came face to face with … himself. He dropped the chest then and it fell on his foot. He hopped about, trying to keep his double in sight. The other Beckett just laughed in a very uncharacteristic way and pulled out a sword.

"Some pirates are better off in the pocket than in the noose," his doppelganger spoke harshly, swinging the sword. Beckett saw it coming and shut his eyes, knowing it would kill him. Nothing happened. He opened them again and the double was gone. Scarlette was there instead.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded of her. "Was my death not enough to satisfy you, woman?"

She smiled and walked towards him, holding out a hand. He looked suspicious but reached out to take the offering. She pulled back at the last second and shouted. "Too slow!"

He shook his head, hoping the image would go away but she remained there, stubborn.

"_I have all the power now. You are nothing._" She vanished completely. All that was left was a grin with cat fangs, floating in the air. Beckett took a step backwards and tripped over the chest, landing hard on the ground. He looked up and could see light through the treetops. Suddenly, there were people leaning over him.

They were marines and looked genuinely concerned. He shouted at them.

"You're not here! None of this is material! Hear me, this isn't REAL!"

"Calm down, sir! We're in the Locker!"

"Damn, hold him! He's in shock."

"Or gone mad," another spoke in a fearful voice.

"No! Nothing here is truth! Trapped, trapped by that Sparrow bitch!" Beckett was trying to hurt the marines. They pinned him and one of them sat on him.

"Go get some water. We'll try to help him figure this out." One of the men left.

"_It all in your head, mate_," Jack spoke. Beckett looked over and he was leaning against a tree, giving a salute. His dreadlocks swung as he vanished.

"Sparrow! Damn you! Damn you both to hell!"

The lead marine looked around and with the butt of his gun, he smacked Beckett on the head. The shouting stopped and he blacked out. The marines let him go and all looked at each other in rather frightened ways.

"Well, he's pretty much useless. What do we do now?"

What will they do? No one knows yet. But that's my hidden ending. Yep. Creepy voices and all that.

And now, for something completely different.

All right, a preview.

It hasn't been long since the Sparrows were granted godhood, but there is a strange melody in the air, a song Scarlette knows she's heard before. The music is sad and though the story is unknown, the pain is nearly visible. Then, without warning, _the Dutchman_'s old crew start popping up on the ship, calling her captain. In a race to find out what their appearance means, _the Dutchman_ and _the Pearl_ sail to Pelegosto to ask Tia Dalma, but only _The Black Pearl _arrives. No one knows what's happened to Scarlette or the plague ship but one thing is for sure. Certain deaths were not as permanent as they should have been.

Okay, it's rough and not very good but the story is better. We've added six pages since the end, so were at … 663.


End file.
